Guidelines to being the Daughter of an Incognito Spy
by Gemmi92
Summary: "How can he be a spy? He spends his days sat at a desk!" She shrieked as soon as the news had settled in. Q smirked, continuing the hacking he was doing as he spoke back to her. "Your father would rather blow a desk up than sit at one, believe me on that front."
1. Chapter 1

"Genuine question," she paused for a moment before she looked up the stairs and to the National Gallery in front of her. "I come to spend one day in London, for you, and you decide that it would be best to take me to a museum full of paintings?"

The man she was walking besides arched his brow, a moment of amusement coming through in his eyes before he turned to look down at her. She said nothing, shrugging as she moved by his side and he stood in the queue for the Gallery.

"Not that I'm disappointed," she told him quickly to stop him from feeling disappointed. "I mean, it's great that you've actually cleared time in your hectic schedule to see me."

"You know that I would see you a lot more if I could, Alison," he replied to her. "Work in the Ministry has been busy. You know what it's like."

She scoffed as she heard him and folded her arms over her chest, shaking her head as she tried to think of what her father was saying to her. Her mother had warned her that this would happen five years ago. She'd warned her that work would always be put before her.

And she hadn't been wrong. She wondered if her mother resented her father at all.

"I guess I don't know what it's like," she replied. "What with being a university student. I could swear that our summers go on for ages! Not that I'm complaining, but I'd like to be back studying."

"You can study whilst you are off, do you know that?" her father asked her, looking down at her with an arched brow.

She rolled her eyes as she heard him, daring to nudge him in the arm. He winced once, almost as if she had actually caused him pain. She doubted she had done.

"I guess I could," she said. "I suppose I didn't really want to."

"And what has your mother said to that?"

"Mum...she...well...she's busy at the moment," Alison admitted to him. "She's seeing someone new. He's called Carl and he works in the accountant's firm that she works in."

"And what do you think to him?" he asked her and she shook her head, biting down on her bottom lip.

He watched as she ran a hand down her blonde hair and moved it over one shoulder. He'd begun to notice that it was something she did when she was nervous. Not that it took him long to find out. His daughter always had been easy to read, ever since he'd met her.

"He's a bit pompous," she admitted to her father. "I guess he's not that bad. They went on a date to some fancy Italian restaurant the other night and he bought home leftover lasagne. Honestly, you have never tasted anything like it."

The queue slowly began to move down and the two of them took a step forwards to follow it. He looked back to his daughter as she peered her head around the couple in front, trying to determine how much longer there was.

"So it is true what they say," he drawled, "the way to impress a woman is through her stomach."

"Hey," she replied hastily, "you'd have mellowed a bit if you had tasted it."

"Good job that I didn't."

Alison kept quiet as her father pushed his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers and she said nothing, sighing loudly as she looked at the line forming behind them. She supposed she should find it difficult to make conversation with a man she didn't see often. James Bond had always been a mystery to her.

She supposed he always would be.

"So, why are we here?" she suddenly asked again.

"I'm trying to educate you, Alison," James replied to her. "Your mother thought that it would be a good idea."

"My mother thinks that I spend every weekend going out and getting drunk," Alison replied. "She doesn't have much time for me ever since Carl came along. Besides, she thinks what she wants to think."

"And don't I know it."

James had first been told of Alison when the girl was fifteen. That was five whole years ago now. Her mother had told him that she didn't want her anywhere near him or his danger. James had agreed to begin with, stating that it would be best for him not to know her.

But then his instincts had gotten the best of him. He'd tracked down her address and had done his best to build up a relationship with his daughter. Of course she had no idea what he did. Alison and her mother assumed that he had some desk job in the Ministry of Defence.

That was the way it would be for as long as he could keep it.

He'd thought about telling her the truth. He'd thought about coming clean. She was a young adult now, but her mother still controlled as much of her life as she could. He doubted Alison would even believe him.

"So can we go out for lunch after this?" Alison checked and James nodded bluntly.

"If you would like to," he agreed with her. "I am sure that I can take you somewhere that can beat even Carl's lasagne."

"Sacré bleu," the girl exclaimed and James felt his lips lift up a little at hearing her. "Carl would positively have a fit at hearing that."

She moved into the satchel which sat on her shoulder and pulled out her bleeping phone. James looked at the latest technology in her hand and she began to quickly text back on the iPhone, her fingers working overtime. He caught a look at the name on the top of the screen.

"Who is Daniel?" he suddenly asked her.

"Some boy who I met on the student newspaper," she replied, her voice full of nonchalance. James shook his head, doing his best not to look too bothered by what he was hearing from his daughter.

"Shouldn't you be concentrating on your degree? You only just managed to scrape sixty one percent this year." He reminded her and she groaned at hearing him.

"Do you have any idea how difficult maths is?" she asked him. "It's near impossible. I'm amazed that I got an A at A level now."

"Do you need a tutor?" he wondered as they finally entered the Gallery and Alison shook her head.

"No, I'll cope. I'll come out with a good grade by Christmas," she said and James recalled her saying the same thing last year. Of course her education was something that concerned him more than he thought it would.

Alison and James fell into silence as they began to look around the rooms filled with paintings. Alison did her best to look at the artistic nature of everything in front of her. She found it more difficult than the others who stood around her.

Her father walked by her side, squinting as he glanced at the paintings and she shook her head, leaning to whisper in his ear;

"I don't get it," she told him, glancing at the bowl of fruit on the wall. "It's a bowl of fruit. What is so symbolic about it?"

James coughed once, shaking his head back and forth as he pretended to be intrigued by the painting.

"It is quite simple," a new voice spoke.

James looked over his daughter's shoulder as he saw a man speak to them. His eyes were set firmly on the painting in front of him, his glasses falling down his nose as he quietly spoke to the pair of them.

"It all to do with semiotics," he told them, moving his hands to rest in front of him as the two to the side of him stared, one with wide eyes and the other with narrowed eyes. "Semiotics of photography is when you read the picture, for example, when you read the bowl of fruit then you think of something like a market stall. Or perhaps you think of how the fruit cannot move. That would be known as a coded iconic."

"Yeah, but," Alison paused as his dark head turned to look her in the eye, "I just see a bowl of fruit."

The man opposite her felt his lips quirk and James watched her blonde hair with wonder as she looked back to the fruit.

"That's all it is, isn't it? It is a bowl of fruit. It's not telling us anything."

"That is all to do with Barthe's theory of noncoded iconic," he told the girl. "Clearly you do not see a deeper meaning."

"I'm finding it difficult to see _how_ you can find a deeper meaning," she replied and James caught the man's eye. He said nothing for a second before wondering if he could be the man he had been told to meet. Surely not, the boy looked as though he was fresh out of university.

"Ali," James said; his voice deep as she looked at him with her green orbs. "Go and see if there is anywhere that sells coffee in here. We're going to need some to keep up with the rest of the journey."

The girl nodded and pulled her satchel further onto her shoulder, stalking through the painted walls in an attempt to find coffee. She finally came to small stall by the entrance and asked for one coffee and a bottle of water. She almost scoffed when she saw how much she had to pay. She dug her purse out of her satchel and handed the money over, dropping the water back into her bag and holding the coffee to her chest.

She moved back inside, looking for her father and wondering where he had gotten to. Finally, she found him settled on a bench, the dark haired man in the raincoat next to him.

"Here," she spoke, handing him the coffee. "Are we going to keep moving?"

"We should," James agreed.

"Alison Holmes, isn't it?" the man in the raincoat suddenly spoke and James quickly jumped in to stop him from revealing who he was.

Clearly he had no idea that his daughter did not know who he was or who he worked for.

"Alison," James drawled, "this is Martin. He works in the Ministry of Transport. I thought I'd seen his face before."

James looked over to 'Martin', his gaze deadly serious and the black haired quartermaster had no option but to play along. He held his hand out to the girl opposite him and nodded at her.

"Martin Jacobs," he said to her.

"Oh, hey," she said with a small smile. "Nice to meet you."

"And you too," he replied to her.

She released his slightly sweaty hand and looked to her dad, her brow arched as he nodded at her.

"You go ahead. I just need to talk with Martin for a moment."

She nodded in agreement and walked back down the wooden floor.

"Martin?" the black haired man asked. "I think I prefer Q."

"And what type of a name is Q?" James wondered back to him.

Q's head shook back and forth as he watched Bond's daughter move down the rows of paintings, clearly confused by the message each one was trying to convey.

"A better one than Martin," he replied to him. "I should go. Have fun searching your soul for the meaning of the paintings."

"Have fun sitting in your pyjamas and playing on your computer games."

Q frowned as Bond left him alone in the gallery to go and catch up with his daughter. He said nothing for a moment before he mumbled to himself;

"I could ruin your entire life _and _do it in my pyjamas."

...

A/N: I hope you'll let me know what you think and I hope that it wasn't too bad!


	2. Chapter 2

"So, where have you been?" Alison asked her father as she sat in the Italian restaurant. James sat across from her in the small booth as she chewed on the straw to her cola. She looked at her father with an arched brow, patiently waiting for his reply to her question.

"I thought that you knew," James replied to her.

"The odd postcard telling me that you're travelling isn't really enough though, is it?" Alison replied. "I haven't seen you for weeks. You sent postcards, but that was it. There was never anything informative on them. What's going on?"

James sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the small glass of whiskey. He kept quiet as a waitress delivered a large pepperoni pizza. Alison was the one to thank her as James peered into the depths of his whiskey.

He wondered what he should say to her. His daughter was nothing if not inquisitive. He often wondered if she could be a spy herself. Of course, that was not the profession that he would choose for her. He would never see her become him.

"Top secret business, Ali," James replied to her, running his hand down his chin as she took a slice of pizza and placed it on her plate. She chewed on it delicately as James spoke. "You know that I cannot divulge in information with you about what the Ministry gets up to."

She rolled her eyes and finished the bite of pizza, her brow arched as she looked back to her father.

"I find it odd," she informed him. "I mean, you come back one minute and then you go again. I know you say the job takes you all over...but...really? For weeks on end."

"Hard to believe," James replied, forcing himself to tell her what was going to happen the following day. "Anyway, you know that you're welcome to stay with me for tonight, don't you?"

Confusion took hold of Alison's face and she shook her head, running her hands down the napkin which sat by the side of her plate. She looked confused for a moment or two at what he was saying.

"I thought that I was staying with you for the week," she replied. "I've booked my train ticket for a week today, and mum went to stay in the Lake District with Carl. You can't seriously send me there to stay with them two."

Shaking his head, James couldn't quite believe that was the arrangement they had settled on. He looked at her with a moment of regret. How could he tell her that there week was to be cut short? Of course she should expect it; having James Bond as a father often brought disappointment.

"I'm flying out to Shanghai tomorrow morning," James informed her.

She allowed her mouth to hang open for a moment or two.

"But...but you...you can't," she blathered.

"I have a new flat now. You can stay there. It is perfectly safe for you, Alison."

"When did this become a plan?" she wondered, doing her best not to sound too angry or look too disappointed with what she was hearing.

"The other day," he admitted. "It slipped my mind that you were staying for a week."

"Yeah, a lot of things slip your mind," Alison snidely replied, "other than work, of course."

"Alison," James said; his voice deep and full of warning.

She shook her head and looked back to his blue eyes.

"Sorry," she said. "I know your job must be stressful. So, do you think mum would be okay with me staying in London alone?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" James asked. "She lets you stay at university in York, doesn't she? Besides, you'd be alone if you went back home to Manchester."

"I guess," Alison replied. "I mean, I am twenty years old. I suppose I can do as I please."

"Within reason," James told her. "Look, I'll leave you an emergency number and I'll make sure that I call you every day that I'm gone. Nothing is going to happen to you, is it?"

"No," she whispered back to him, biting her pizza again. "Just...don't tell mum about this."

"You want me to lie to your mother?" James checked, not sounding too comfortable with the idea.

Alison moved her head back and forth as she heard him.

"No," she replied. "Just don't mention anything to her. Besides, it will be me she phones. I'll manage to lie to her with ease. It really isn't that difficult."

"And have you lied before?" James enquired; his head cocked to the side as he finally picked up a slice of pizza and pressed it against his lips.

Alison's smirk seemed to grow on her face and she looked up to him.

"No," she said.

"Well that is a blatant lie right there," James warned her and she shook her head, shifting on the seat.

"Only about trivial things," she said, "nothing major. Calm down, dad."

"I am calm," James assured her. "When have I ever been a strict parent?"

Alison almost choked on her pizza as he spoke the words and she said nothing more to him, deciding that it would be for the best to keep quiet on the matter.

...

James was awake early the next morning. He looked around his new flat, wondering if his daughter would be awake. Much to his belief, she was still fast asleep in the guest room. Her suitcase sat in one corner of the room, opened with clothes strewn all around. She had a small make up bag on the desk along with her clothes from last night being dumped on the floor. James had been in the flat for less than a week and she had already managed to make it look like a mess.

He took a seat on the side of the bed, his fingers shaking her shoulder. She stirred and grumbled, flopping onto her front and allowing her face to rest in the cushions, her blonde hair flaring onto the pillow. She grumbled again as James nudged her once more.

"Ali," he said her name softly. "Are you awake?"

"No."

James smiled once at hearing the grumble come from her lips. She finally fell back onto her back and pushed her hair from her face, her arm resting over her stomach as James looked down at her.

"I'm leaving now," he told her. "You're to stay indoors and not answer the door to anyone."

"Am I not allowed outside?" she wondered. "Besides, you don't have any food in the fridge. What do you expect me to eat?"

James sighed and shook his head, knowing that he should have sent her back up to Manchester. Never mind, he'd have someone keep his eye on her to make sure she did nothing stupid. Not that she would. She was a young woman. She was old enough to do as she pleased.

"Do what you need to do," James said. "But no going out at night time."

"Fine," Alison agreed to that term. "How long will you be gone?"

"A day, two at the most," James replied with a rueful shrug. "Not long at all."

"Hm," she grunted back to him, still not too appeased with what he was telling her.

She kept quiet as James ruffled her hair and bent down to kiss her on the cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his suit covered shoulder.

"Now, don't fall back to sleep," he warned her. "I know what you're like. You'd have another three hours sleeping if you could."

"You're not to know," she teased him as he pecked her on the forehead and stood tall again.

"No, I suppose not," James agreed numbly with her. "Right, be good and no crazy house parties whilst I'm gone."

"Damn," she cursed, turning onto her side and watching her father leave the guest room. "You ruined my plans."

Bond chuckled, his hands in his pockets as he stalked off into the kitchen and picked out the bag he had packed for the journey.

"Bye, Ali."

"Bye, dad."

...

James travelled through the slow crawling London traffic, thankful when he finally came to Q Division. He was in need of picking up his passport; considering he had no idea where his real passport was. Besides, he needed to complain about the pistol which Q had given him yesterday. Apparently it would work when only James touched it. But it didn't seem to work at all.

"Bond," Q spoke as soon as he turned around to see the man striding towards him. Q was sat at a desk in the early morning, waiting for everyone else to turn up and begin work. He had his hand on the mouse of a desktop whilst James stood tall, looking down at the boy in front of him.

"I assume you are here for the passport," Q spoke. "Yes, I should really have given you it yesterday, but our time was cut short by your daughter."

"I'd say our time was about right," Bond replied, his lips tight as he looked around the division.

He pulled the pistol he carried out of his pocket and showed it to Q.

"What's wrong?" the quartermaster wondered as he arched a brow and cocked his head to the side as he handed Bond the passport and took the pistol from him. "All you have to do is shoot something. It really isn't that difficult."

"I attempted to last night," James said. "I could get it to work."

Q looked at it and shook his head, a small smile on the corner of his mouth as he rested the pistol on the desk.

"That is because someone forgot to activate it," he replied, observing the device in front of him.

"Someone?" James wondered, his voice questioning. He did doubt Q. Of course he did. He seemed a little too young to be the head of the Division.

"Not me," Q said. "I could sense what your inquisitive tone was suggesting. Besides, why were you attempting to fire it last night? I do hope you didn't scare your daughter to death."

"Alison was sleeping and I was aiming at the wall," James said. "I needed to see if it worked. Good job I looked now, isn't it?"

"I should suppose so," Q replied back to him. "Anyway, your daughter didn't seem to enjoy the Gallery too much."

"She has my taste when it comes to paintings and hidden meanings. If only M said to meet somewhere a little more interesting," James replied to him. "Regardless, I need you to do something for me."

"Oh?" Q wondered, pushing his glasses further up onto his nose as he waited patiently for Bond to describe the request which was to be given to him.

"My daughter is staying in London for the next few days by herself." James told Q.

The other man frowned, knowing straight away where the conversation was heading. A smirk formed on his face as he took a few moments to fiddle with the inside of the pistol.

"Babysitting isn't really in my job descriptions," Q reminded Bond.

"No," James nodded, "but some of us have a proper job to do. I only ask that you keep a tab on her iPhone."

"And does she have a tracking device on this phone?" Q wondered. "Or do you intend to make my life that little more difficult and have me find her?"

"I installed a tracker the last time I saw her," James replied. "Besides, I'd have thought that nothing was too difficult for the new quartermaster."

"I never said it was difficult," Q replied as he began to play on the computer after handing Bond the pistol back. The agent pressed his finger on the trigger and allowed a shot to ring into his ears and hit the wall across from them.

Q pressed his hands over his ears, moving his face to glare at James. The agent gave him a cocky grin and shrugged.

"Just checking," he replied.

"Not in here," Q replied. "Go and play with your toys somewhere else."

"I will once you tell me that you have tracked her," James nodded and Q quickly typed on the keyboard. It took less than twenty seconds for a red dot to come up on the screen. Nodding, Q looked up to James and arched his brow.

"She's at a French patisserie down the road from your flat," Q said. "Croissants...French cuisine...I see she doesn't fully take after you uncouth attitude."

Smirking, James adjusted the bag on his shoulder and began to leave the quartermaster to his job. Q watched as 007 walked away from him and he shook his head, turning his glance back to the dot on the screen, wondering what Alison Holmes would say if she knew who her father really was.

...

A/N: Thanks to my two anonymous reviewers for letting me know what you think, and to everyone who is now following. I hope you'll leave me a review!


	3. Chapter 3

Q went about his work with haste that day, doing his best to prove himself worthy of being in the position he was in. He often kept drinking coffee out of his mug whilst he watched the large screen in front of him. His eyes kept on resting on the red dot in the bottom corner of the screen.

None of his workers had bothered to ask him about it, and he supposed he was fortunate for that. After Bond had left, Q had looked into the mysterious daughter. He'd first checked her Facebook page, scrolling down to see that she was a Math student at York University. Her pictures looked pretty wild, constantly showing her partying.

Q had to wonder if Bond knew of his daughter's partying habits. He suspected not. And then he had gone further into depth, coming to see that Alison wasn't registered as being Bond's daughter. As a matter of fact, there was nothing to link them together. He wasn't the father on the birth certificate. Q's brow had furrowed as he read the information and shook his head, finding it quite strange.

Perhaps that was why his flat and belongings hadn't been left to her. Bond had made sure that there was no link from him to his daughter. Maybe he did it to keep her safe?

"Not as dumb as he looks," Q whispered and drank some of his coffee.

Time slowly ticked by and he found himself growing tired as the day progressed. The red dot in the corner of the screen hadn't moved. That was until three o'clock. Q watched as the red dot moved onto the street, until it stopped in the French patisserie again.

"Clearly someone has a croissant craving," Q mumbled under his breath and continued resuming his normal work.

Time finally came for him to go home for the evening. He was the last to leave the office, as per usual. He placed his anorak on his body, covering his simple suit before he began to log off from the computer. That was the next time he saw the red dot.

It hadn't moved in over two and a half hours. Q's eyebrows rose a centimetre and he wondered what the girl could possibly be doing. A moment of panic came over Q and he wondered if something had happened to the girl. He was pretty certain that meant he was in trouble.

And then he wondered if she had left her phone there.

Two hours in a patisserie seemed extreme to Q. He logged back on and checked the CCTV, seeing nothing since she had entered the shop, and the shop had no CCTV.

"Damn," he mumbled.

He contemplated calling M, but he soon pushed that thought from his head. He was sure she had busier matters to consider. Besides, if the daughter wasn't known to MI6 then there was no point in them going to see her.

No, Q was alone in this.

He groaned and logged back off, pulling his mobile from his anorak pocket and quickly tapping in her location. He managed to find a cab once he had navigated the corridors of the underground base. He gave the location and saw that the girl was still there. Grave thoughts entered Q's mind. Mainly all of them were related to Bond shooting him. Of course, Q could have a good go at stopping him before that happened. He imagined moving somewhere like the countryside. That was when the cab driver stopped and demanded the seven pounds that was owed to him. Grumbling, Q dug his wallet out of his pocket and handed over a ten pound note, telling the man to keep the change.

He stood on the pavement and looked up to the small cafe. It was quaint, Q could admit that. He walked in, opening the glass door before a bell rung above his head. Looking around, he saw the girl in question sat in the corner.

Only another two people sat at small wooden tables. One had their paper open and the other was working on a laptop, sipping on hot chocolate every now and then. He considered turning around and walking out once he had seen that the girl was perfectly safe on her Macbook.

But then he thought how conspicuous that would look. He moved to the counter and a small woman from behind eyed him with patience.

"Hot chocolate, please," he said politely. "Make that to go."

She nodded and Q leant against the counter, doing the math and adding up that this pointless trip had cost him thirteen pounds and forty five pence. He'd be sure to charge Bond for it when he next saw him.

Q looked around again as the girl at the table picked up her white mug and slowly sipped her cappuccino. Her eyes moved over the cup and she noticed Q looking at her. She felt her brow move up as she recognised the anorak and NHS prescription glasses.

She pulled her own glasses off her eyes as Q awkwardly waved at her. The woman behind the counter demanded money and Q handed her the exact change before taking the polystyrene cup. It was then when he realised he had no option but to go and see Bond's daughter. He shouldn't appear rude.

"Martin, isn't it?" Alison checked with Q and he felt his teeth ground together. Martin. If Shanghai didn't kill Bond then Q could have a go.

"Yes," he replied. "Alison, how have you been?"

"Oh, not too bad," the girl replied and fiddled with the frame of her glasses that she needed for reading. "I mean, things could be worse. Did you know my dad's flown off to Shanghai?"

"I'd heard a rumour," Q replied. "We tend not to get mixed up in the Defence's business. Transport is much more of a tame job."

"I think working for MI5 is a tame job in comparison to dad's job," Alison replied to him and placed her glasses back onto her eyes. She pulled her hair over one shoulder before she spoke again; "I mean; he always seems to be away."

"So I've been led to believe," nodded Q before he inclined his chin towards her Macbook. "What is it you're working on?"

"Oh," Alison said, looking back to her blue screen. She kept quiet for a moment. "I was doing some Math...I mean...considering my dad has left me alone. Dad has no Wi-Fi at the new flat so I had to come here."

_See, Q, no reason to worry. Your head will still be attached to your shoulders by the time Bond gets home. _He thought to himself.

"But the screen just turned blue. I think that I've got a virus. I don't know how...I mean...it's not like I do anything illegal on this thing. I'm too scared considering it cost me a year's wages from my Saturday job when I was at home."

Q slowly sank down in the seat next to hers as she showed him the computer screen. She wasn't wrong. There certainly was something wrong with her screen. And this was Q's area of expertise. He kept quiet as she moved her mug out the way and Q slid closer to her in his seat.

"Yes," he replied. "There's certainly something wrong with it."

"I know, right?" she exclaimed, her fingers running through her hair. "I mean, I don't know what I did. One minute I was working out the angle of a triangle, the next it was like this. If it's lost all my work then I am in deep trouble."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," he replied to her, finally looking into her green orbs. "Do you mind if I take a look."

"Sure," she said, turning the screen so that he could see it better.

Q shrugged himself out of his anorak and adjusted the glasses on his nose before his fingers began to touch the computer at record speed. Alison's eyes widened as she watched the quartermaster type with lightning speed, constant boxes popping up on her screen.

"I don't think I've seen anyone type so fast," she mumbled as she watched him for a moment and he smirked.

"I'm not the average worker at the Ministry of Transport," he drawled to her and she kept quiet before she heard her iPhone begin to ring in her satchel. She pulled it out from under her seat and opened it, dragging her phone out.

"Oh, it's dad," she told him and he looked to her for a moment, nodding swiftly.

She unlocked the phone and took the call, still watching Q as she did so. "Hey, dad."

"Alison," he replied. "How are you faring?"

"Well, you've been gone all of twelve hours, and nothing has really changed. I did some shopping this morning to stock the fridge and now I'm actually trying to do work in the patisserie down the street."

"You're working?" Bond checked with her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Ha, bloody, ha," she drawled back. "No, I was working, but I think my Macbook caught a virus or something. It doesn't seem to be functioning at all. But your friend's here and he seems to be doing something."

"Friend?" James panicked for a moment.

"Yeah, Martin," she replied. "Honestly, I don't know what he's doing, but he seems far too intelligent to work for the Ministry of Transport."

"Why is Martin there?" Bond wondered before Alison shrugged and looked to Q as he stopped typing for a moment, doing his best to think of some lie so that Alison wouldn't know and Bond would be appeased.

"I think he was getting a drink," Alison said, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "I don't know, dad."

"I was in the neighbourhood and I'd head this was the place to be," Q said; Bond listening to him from a cracked line. "Although it's a nice neighbourhood, everything seems pretty safe. The Ministry had no need to be worried."

Alison's face scrunched up with confusion as she heard Q speak and he met her gaze again before looking back to the screen.

_Stop it, Q. Yes, she is attractive. What do you expect? She's his daughter and women apparently throw themselves at him. You've gone too long without speaking to a female. That's the only reason you seem to warm up under her gaze. _

"Anyway," Alison said, "how are things in Shanghai?"

"As dangerous as ever," he honestly said, but she laughed.

"How dangerous can a desk job be?" she teased him. "Anyway, I should really get going...see if this good for nothing laptop can be fixed."

"You will be heading home soon, won't you?" James checked with her and she nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I'll be back before dark. There's no need to worry."

"Of course not," James reluctantly agreed with her. "Be safe, Alison."

"Yeah, yeah," she brushed him off. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." James said and brusquely hung up on her.

She deposited the phone back into her satchel before she saw her Macbook come back to life, the screensaver of her and her friends coming back on.

"Oh God," she sighed, her hand resting on Q's upper arm. "You're a life saver. Honestly, how did you do it?"

"Oh," Q said, the feeling of her hand on his upper arm distracting him for a moment. "You know...coding...all that...honestly, viruses aren't that clever."

"Speak for yourself," Alison said and she looked back to the screen as a sudden window popped up. Q followed her gaze once he saw her mouth gape open and he looked back to the computer screen.

"What's this?" Alison wondered, adjusting the laptop so that she could see it better. Q felt her upper arm brush against his as the two of them huddled around the screen. A cartoon skull took over her screen and she looked up to Q as if he had the explanation.

He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving the computer screen as he saw the words appear.

_Do you truly know dear daddy?_

Alison read the words and shook her head, a smile of disbelief on her face as she tried to play down the situation. Q kept quiet for a few moments, wondering what he had done to her laptop as the skull continued to bounce around the screen and the words flashed different colours.

"Well, this is clearly another virus," she said to him. "I mean, what more can it be? Nothing, really, can it?" she checked with him.

Q didn't look convinced. That was because he wasn't. He knew that there was something more to this. The message was personal. It was too personal.

"Something isn't right," Q told her, looking around the quiet patisserie.

"What?" Alison asked. "What are you talking about? I don't get it."

"I...I...you need to come with me," Q demanded from her.

She looked at him with her brows knitted together and Q stood up, slamming the lid down to her laptop and placing it back in the cover. She watched him with apprehension.

"What are you talking about?" she repeated. "Where are we supposed to be going? I don't know what you're talking about in the slightest."

"I think that someone is trying to get to your father."

"Dad?" she checked, wide eyes staring at Q as he took it upon himself to put her Macbook away into the satchel. "What has dad done?"

"I don't know," lied Q. "But you need to come with me now."

"Look, no offence, but I hardly know you."

"You don't know me at all," he replied and the others in the patisserie looked at him as he fussed around the girl, his eyes constantly looking to the door. "Alison, trust me, you need to come with me now."

"And if I refuse?" she wondered and Q groaned, grabbing hold of her arm and hauling her up. He grabbed his anorak and shrugged into it before he placed her satchel on her shoulder and walked out of the patisserie, looking around the street. He knew she'd follow. The bell rung behind her as she looked to Q and he scanned the street, doing his best to look for something suspicious.

"Pretend it's on your screen," he murmured to himself and finally spotted someone looking straight at him.

Q gulped and looked to Alison and then down to her shoes. "You're wearing flats. That's good."

"Why is that good?" she asked.

"Because we're going for a run," Q told her and grabbed her hand before she had time to argue with him.

Squealing, she ran besides Q as he refused to do anything other than that. She tried to fight in his grip, finally slowing their pace to a walk as Q looked behind and the big burly man was soon gaining on them. He gulped once as he noticed the gun in his hand.

"Listen, Alison," he urged her. "We need to go. You see that man? I think he wants to kill you, okay?"

"Me?" Alison asked, following his pointing finger and she saw the gun before he aimed it at the pair of them. She froze in fear before Q acted quickly, taking her by the hand again and dragging her around the corner. Screams and a gunshot filled her ears as Q did his best to wave for a taxi.

"Taxi!" he screamed, his arm waving outwards as one finally stopped for him.

Q opened the back door and ushered the girl in, her satchel dropping by her feet as he clambered in after her, almost squashing her.

"Where to?"

"National Gallery," Q said. They'd never look there for her. From there he could get the tube back to MI6 and then find M.

The driver nodded, the cab slowly pulling onto the road before Q dared to look out the back window, the sight he saw causing him to duck again. The big burly man fired his final shot, hitting the back window and the glass shattered. Alison screamed again as the driver veered left slightly.

"What the hell?" he snapped. "What is this?"

"Just keep going," Q urged him. "Worry about your window later."

"But it's my window!" the driver snapped back.

"And it will be your life if you don't keep moving," Q reminded him.

The driver kept quiet and moved as Q brushed the glass off from his anorak and he saw it glittering around Alison and her upper body.

"Keep still," he urged her, his hands slowly picking the shards out as the girl's cheeks reddened and her breath kept catching in her throat.

"What is this?" she spoke to him. "Who are you? What did he want?"

"That was field work," Q said. "Quite tedious. Try not to worry. We'll go and get somewhere safe...and...well...someone will explain everything to you."

"You're not a civil servant, are you?" Alison checked, a gulp running down her throat as she spoke and Q shook his head at her.

"And my name's not Martin," he replied. "And no, your dad isn't a civil servant either."

"Who is he?" Alison asked; her chest heaving as Q pulled another shard of glass from her hair.

"Keep still," he urged again as she began to shuffle. "That's classified information, Miss Holmes," he whispered. "You'll soon find out. Don't worry about that."

...

A/N: 3 reviews for the previous chapter! Thank you to , Super Sonic Death Turtle and CaptainoftheUSSTardis for reviewing. I hope you'll let me know what you think if you're reading thus far!


	4. Chapter 4

Q couldn't even begin to comprehend how confused the girl walking next to him was. She'd been questioning him ever since they climbed out from the cab, but he had told her nothing. He had kept his mouth closed and his eyes straight ahead. She followed him past the National Gallery until they came to the nearest tube station and he began to play on his phone.

She was well aware that he wasn't going to answer any of her questions. He was silent for the majority of the journey back to the base and did his best not to look to suspicious.

"Where are we?" Alison finally asked as Q strolled into a building and flashed his security pass at a bunch of guards. They looked at Alison with suspicion before Q assured them that she was with him and M intended to see her.

"MI6," Q told her. "You remember how there was a bombing earlier in the week? Well, the entire department had to be moved underground."

"Why are we at MI6?" Alison wondered, doing her best not to sound frustrated with the entire situation. "Can you please just tell me what is happening?"

Q looked into her pleading eyes and felt his Adam's apple bob up and down. She really did have her father's stern look. He pressed a button to an elevator, swiping his card down the access panel before the doors opened and he stepped inside.

"You know that I cannot tell you. It is not my place," Q said. If felt like the hundredth time he'd had this conversation with her.

"What makes you think I'm getting in an elevator and coming underground with you? For all I know you could be working against my dad."

"Would your father have trusted me with this information then?" Q asked her, pulling his own phone out and showing her the tracking device on her phone. "Your father asked me to track you whilst he was gone. He had a tracking device installed and he needed me to make sure you were safe whilst he was gone."

Alison looked at the bleeping red dot, pushing her reading glasses closer to her eyes as she saw it. Her gaze moved back to Q's and he placed his mobile back into his anorak pocket.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He told her. "I know that you're confused, but M will explain everything to you."

Alison knew that she had nothing more to lose now. Q wasn't lying to her, she could see that. She supposed she was still concerned over everything that had happened. She stepped into the elevator and stood next to him as he closed the doors and pressed for the underground floor.

"Okay," Q said; a small smile on his face before he turned to look at her. "Everything is going to be okay."

Alison remained silent as the elevator doors opened and Q stepped out, expecting her to follow him. She did so slowly, moving down the dark brick corridors. There were only small lights on the walls, illuminating the path. A chill came over Alison as she walked closely behind Q.

"Where is M?" he asked as soon as they came to man behind a desk.

Everything down there was cold and damp. Why would MI6 resort to a place in the tunnels beneath? Alison didn't get the chance to question as she looked around her basic surroundings.

"She is in Q Division," the man replied to Q. "She's waiting for you there."

"Thanks," Q said and nodded back to Alison.

She followed him again and her eyes widened at the next room she entered. This one was large and white in comparison to the rest of the tunnels she'd walked through. Computer screen sat through the rows and a large screen stood at the end. They were all turned off, no signs of life there whatsoever.

Large white pillars dotted the room and small glass panels went down the middle of the floor. Alison walked down the steps before she heard a woman speak, her voice brash;

"I trust you weren't followed?" she checked with the man who stood before her.

"No," Q replied. "I went to the National Gallery and caught the tube before walking back here. I made sure that no one was following us."

"Good," M said. "And how did you find her?"

"Well...you see...Bond..." Q stammered, knowing that he shouldn't have done what Bond had asked. The girl was not MI6's business. They weren't babysitters. "He asked me to keep an eye on her...well...tracking..."

"And you evidentially didn't tell Bond that the MI6 is not his own personal communications centre?" she replied to Q, her brow arched and an un-amused look on her face.

Q shifted under her gaze and looked back to Alison as she kept her head down.

"Well, I mean...I think someone means to hurt her...or at least scare her," Q explained. "Why would they send someone after her if not?"

"To get at Bond," she replied and sighed. Placing a hand to her temple, she nodded at Q, knowing that he had done the right thing. He'd saved a girl's life. "You did well, Q, for someone who is not a field agent. What did you find?"

"They sent a virus to her laptop," Q said, looking to Alison before he motioned to her satchel. She pulled it open and handed him the Macbook again. He set it down on the desk before flipping the lid open to reveal the flashing skull and words.

M stood next to him, looking at them before she looked up to Alison, knowing full well that Bond had kept his identity from the girl.

"I trust by now that you know your father isn't a civil servant," M said and Alison nodded.

"I gathered," she said, a slight tone of sarcasm coming from her. She kept quiet for another moment and met M's gaze. "Who is he?"

"Your father is one of our finest agents," M told her, her hands behind her back as Q went back to hacking into the computer. "He is 007, the seventh best agent we have. He kept it from you because he knew of the dangers that came with the job. Any association with you could have done something to hurt you. He did what he thought was best."

M knew that she didn't have time to explain everything to the girl. Hell, even she didn't know the full story yet.

Alison listened to the information that sunk in. Her dad worked for MI6. He was an agent.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Alison wondered from her.

M arched a brow, clearly unimpressed by the girl's attitude. "Do I look like I joke?" she sniped back. "No, this is no joke whatsoever."

"How can he be a spy? He spends his days at a desk?" She shrieked as soon as the news had settled in.

Q smirked, continuing the hacking he was doing as he spoke back to her. "Your father would rather blow up a desk rather than sit at one. Believe me on that front."

Alison shook her head back and forth as M stepped forwards and looked at the girl.

"Your father is who he is. I realise that this is a lot of information to take in, but it is true. Now, I need to be somewhere else. There is sheer panic everywhere considering a man opened fire on a busy street."

M began to sweep back to the stairs before Q intervened, quickly holding his hand up and moving from behind his desk.

"What about Alison?" he wondered. "Shouldn't she...well...go somewhere? I'm staying here and working on this until something happens."

"Where do you suggest?" M enquired. "No one knows she is here. I have agents working around the clock on this case and 007 returns tomorrow morning if he sticks to the schedule. I assume he shall be here as soon as he hears the news."

"But...but...it is night time," Q stammered. "What about when I go?"

"Then tell an agent and he shall show her to some spare room with a sofa until morning. Now, I have other business to see to."

"Yes, ma'am," Q nodded in agreement and M swept from the room, leaving the two of them together.

A gasp of disbelief escaped Alison as she glowered at M.

"Am I not allowed to speak for myself?" she snapped at him. "What about if I don't want to stay here all night?"

"I suspect you don't have a choice," Q told her in response. "You're involved in whatever mess this is. I'm not entirely sure, but I do not doubt I will find out."

"Jesus Christ," the girl complained and Q pulled out a chair from behind his desk. He moved to another worker's desk and grabbed a chair from there, pulling it out and setting it next to his.

"Just sit down," Q urged her as he began to type on her Macbook again. "I'm doing my best to see how this message got onto here."

Alison did as he had told her, taking her seat next to his as she looked at him.

"Is it true?" she simply wondered, doing her best not to sound hysterical. "He's a spy?"

"Yes, he is," Q assured her. "Tell me, did you never suspect anything about him?"

"Why would I have reason to?" Alison replied. "I mean...he's my dad...I don't expect him to lie to me about things, but...a spy? Seriously? Even that's a bit surreal."

"They do exist," Q assured her.

"But you don't normally think that they're your father."

"Touché," Q responded, hitting the keyboard with his fast fingers again. "However, I would say that you're responding to his years of deceit quite well."

"That's because he's not here for me to get my hands on him," she replied and a smirk lit up Q's face. "I don't know what to think about any of this yet...people trying to kill me...scare me..."

"We'll soon find out who," Q promised her. "but your Macbook isn't giving me many hits. It keeps rerouting the IP-"

"-I have no idea what you're talking about," Alison interrupted him.

"Whoever did this didn't leave a trail of breadcrumbs to take me to him," Q told her in simpler terms, shutting the lid to Macbook down. "It's infuriating beyond belief."

"So there is nothing that you can do?"

"Oh, there are lots of things that I can do," Q promised her, "none of them on an empty stomach."

"You're not leaving, are you?" Alison checked, a moment of fear coming over her as she watched Q stand and pick her Macbook up. He looked back down to her for a moment, his brow arched as his glasses fell further down his nose.

"I...well...there are other agents..."

"I guess," Alison agreed with him, knowing that she was being silly. She'd known him all of two minutes. She didn't need to get clingy.

Q looked down at her as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. He knew that Bond would never forgive him if he saw the sight at this moment in time. The girl was still scared; not that he could blame her. He suspected he was the only one she had truly spoken to. Leaving her in a room of strangers after this incident would not look good at all.

"Well, I could order us some pizza," Q told her. "I suspect you must be hungry, after all."

He sat back down and logged into his own computer before Alison ran a hand through her hair and nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No worries," he said back to her. "Bond will be back tomorrow. I'm sure he will explain everything then."

"I do not doubt it." Alison replied before she pushed a hand through her hair. She watched as a YouTube page came up on the page and showed the title of MI6 agents. "What's that?"

"That is what we are up against," Q informed her. "Your father is in Shanghai to find a list of NATO agents who are undercover. The list has fallen into the wrong hands...and those hands have somehow managed to decode it and publish it."

"But...surely...if their cover is blown then they're in danger?" Alison checked with him.

"Oh, I would say so," he agreed. "There as good as dead."

"And dad?" Alison worried. "How many times has he been...well...in danger? How many times has he come back to me...and I never knew..."

"There is no use in worrying about him," Q promised her, beginning to search for food. "He's a fine agent. All he has to do is pull a trigger and stay alive."

"You make it sound so easy," she replied in a whisper before Q looked back down to her.

"Well, if I made it sound more dangerous then you'd be more worried," Q replied, a small smile on her face as she allowed her lips to pull upwards at hearing him.

He shrugged out his anorak and Alison crossed her legs in her chair.

"So, what do you really do? I trust you're not in the Ministry of Transport?" she checked with him and he shook his head.

"You would be correct," he told her. "I'm Q, the quartermaster and head of Q Division."

"And what does Q Division do?" Alison wondered. "Besides, who was the woman who was here? And Q can't be your real name."

"Q Division is the research and development division of the British Secret Service. M is the woman who was here. She is in charge of the Secret Service." Q told her and then smirked before he looked back to her. "And no, my name is not Q."

"So what is your name?"

"Ah, now if I told you that then I would have to kill you," Q joked with her and he brought another smile onto her lips. "But, no, it is not Martin."

"You didn't look like a Martin," she replied with a vague yawn.

"No," Q replied. "I didn't think so."

He stood up and looked back to her for a moment before he grabbed hold of his wallet. "I'm just going to go and wait for the food," he told her. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She nodded and watched as he walked away from her to the stairs. He turned around for a moment and waved a slender hand in her direction;

"Don't touch anything."

He moved back out of the room and down the corridors, waiting outside for pizza before he walked back in with the box, some of the guards nodding in understanding at him. He noticed a blanket on a couch as he moved past and picked it up.

"Food," he simply said, pushing her laptop out the way and replacing it with pizza. He opened the lid and handed her the blanket. "It can get cold in here." He informed her and she nodded in agreement, pulling it around the summer dress which she wore and allowing it to drape over her shoulders.

"So...whoever has this list...do you think they did this to my computer?" Alison dared to ask from Q. "I just...someone wants me dead. Someone wants to hurt my father."

"It's possible," Q told her, eating a slice of pizza. "If they want to hurt Bond; what other way is better than through his daughter? Although it is true that he is not officially linked to you . He's not on your birth certificate, he hasn't recognised you as next of kin...he did everything possible to keep you from anyone."

"Yet someone has found me?" Alison checked in a small voice. "What would they have done if you weren't there? I mean, would I be...well..."

"It's best not to think about it," Q told her. "Honestly, don't worry."

They lapsed into a silent lull, both of them eating quietly before Q went back to typing on the Macbook. He alternated between her laptop and his, doing his best to try and 'follow the breadcrumbs'. Alison said nothing, listening to the tapping of keys before she felt herself slowly drift off to sleep.

The next thing Q heard from her was a soft snore and her head collapsed to the side. She was fully rested in the chair and now her head had hit his shoulder, the blanket falling down one shoulder as she did so. Q was tempted to tell her to wake up and remove her head from his shoulder. He did none of that.

He chose to move his other free arm and pull the blanket back up and around her shoulders before he left her there, her hair tickling against the bare skin of his neck as he continued working into the dead of the night before he finally closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him.

...

A/N: 5 reviews for the previous chapter! Thank you so very much for everything! Just to clarify, I'm starting off by following the Skyfall plot and then moving on from that. So thanks to , Guest, Heather, Ain'tEasyBeingBreezy and CaptainoftheUSSTardis for reviewing! I do hope you'll continue to let me know what y'all think!


	5. Chapter 5

Q awoke early the following morning. He glanced to the blank screen of his laptop and saw that the screen was blank. He blinked a few times and tapped a key, looking down into the bottom corner for the time. The screen was bright and blinding after hours of keeping his eyes closed.

He looked down and noted that the weight that had been on his shoulder had been removed. He kept silent for a moment before looking around for any sign of Alison. He stood up and was about to go searching, but he didn't have any need to.

She came walking in after another moment and Q felt his pulse settle at the sight of her. She had bags under her eyes and she had wiped any makeup she had on her face from her skin. Q noticed that a few spots sat on her chin and her face was quite pale.

"I just went to the bathroom," Alison informed him. "A guard outside showed me the way."

"Oh, yes, I suppose you would need to know where it is," he nodded in response to her and she popped her lips before shrugging.

"So, what now?" she wondered. "Do I just sit here and wait..."

"...until Bond comes back, yes," Q finished off for her. "I kept on looking at your laptop last night and finally found out where the message had come from. Apparently it is somewhere off the coast of Macau."

"Macau?" she arched a brow. "Sorry, I managed an A at Geography GCSE and that's as far as my knowledge spans."

"Macau is an administrative region of the People's Republic of China," he explained and she responded with a nod. "Bond should be back this morning. I got a message last night saying that he had apprehended the person responsible for publishing the list."

"He's safe?" Alison checked; a sigh of relief escaping from her and Q nodded.

She pulled the checker blanket tightly around her shoulders and nodded, a hand pushing through her blonde hair. Q moved over to the coffee machine and began to set it up, throwing the empty pizza box in the bin as he went.

"Where did you get your mug from?" Alison dared to ask once he sat back down at his desk.

He looked to the Q mug and turned it in his hands. "A gift." He told her in a simple tone. "Well, a gift to myself when I got this job. I thought it seemed quite apt."

"It's pretty cool," Alison admitted, sitting back down in her seat and going back to waiting for her father to turn up. She wondered what her mother would say to this sudden revelation. She doubted she knew.

"Thank you," Q brusquely said and continued to drink his coffee. "I'll be back in one minute."

Nodding, Alison settled back in her seat and closed her eyes, her neck bent back as she yawned loudly. She did nothing more until Q returned. He'd changed out of his suit jacket and had placed a brown cardigan on instead. She assumed he'd had it in his bag. He fiddled with the glasses on his nose whilst Alison removed hers and placed them into her satchel. Q took his seat again and handed her a bottle of water he had found on his trip. He supposed it was impressive what lurked in the underground.

Before he knew it, nine o'clock soon came around and the rest of Q Division slowly began to pour into the room. He glanced back to Alison as some questioning looks came her way and she kept her head down.

"Um...I'd introduce you," Q said, "but I don't think Bond would want anyone to know about you. I mean, there's a reason why he's kept you secret for all these years."

"That's fine," Alison nodded. "Do you want me to leave? I can go...well..."

"Not necessary," Q assured and he stood up, gesturing for her to follow.

She kept still as she stood next to him, looking onto the big screen on the wall in front. Q said nothing whilst he worked and Alison stood next to him, often hearing whispers from behind her as people wondered who she was.

"Q."

Q turned around half an hour later as soon as he heard a voice. He arched a brow as he saw an agent stood there, his hands in his pockets as he motioned for Q to move up the stairs and out of Q Division.

"I think this is your cue," Q informed Alison. "Just follow me."

"Got it," the girl replied and she walked behind the quartermaster, doing her best not to pay any attention to anyone as she walked out the bright white room. She finally came back to the quiet corridor and saw him stood there.

A moment of relief ran through her as she saw him dressed in his fine suit, his blue eyes focused on her. She smiled once as his lips pulled upwards and he brushed past Q to get to his daughter.

"Dad," she said; her voice shaking as he kept his arms around her waist, wondering when he had last held her so tightly. He didn't think he ever had.

"Alison, you're safe," he said, unable to stop replaying the moment when M had told him what had happened. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I thought that you would be safe here. I never thought that he would come after you."

"Who?" Alison wondered, stepping back a moment as James ran his hand down her long hair, pushing it behind her ear whilst Q stood behind them awkwardly, looking anywhere he could but not at them.

"Raoul Silva," James told her. "He's an ex agent. He admitted that he had sent someone to apprehend you."

"Why?" Alison wondered.

"To get to me...Ali...I don't know," James said. "He's not someone who you want to mess with. I don't know why he would go after you, but he did. Maybe he wanted to distract me? Maybe he wanted me to stop chasing after him and come back home? All that I can think of what would have happened if he had gotten to you."

"He didn't," she replied, turning her head over her shoulder to look back at Q. "Q saved me. He told me that he was spying on me."

"I wasn't spying," Q replied with a roll of his eyes. "I was doing what had been asked of me, yes."

"I suppose I owe you my thanks," James said, a hint of amusement of his tone. "How did it feel to be out in the field?"

"A doddle in comparison to anything I've ever done," Q replied, the teasing also present in his tone. "I don't know why you spend so much time moaning about it."

"Don't you have work to do?" wondered James. "Or spots to clear up?"

"Hey," Alison said, swatting her dad around the arm. "No need to be rude."

"Oh, don't worry, Alison," Q said. "Your father has been very persistent in complaining about my complexion and how I am too young for this job."

"Just a concern," Bond replied. "And since when did my daughter become Alison?"

"Since I saved her life," Q coolly replied. "Anyway, I do have work to be doing. I trust you have brought something for me?"

"Tanner is bringing it to the Division in a moment. It's Silva's laptop. We need you to take a look at it."

"No problem," replied Q and he turned on his heel before moving back to his Division.

Alison continued to stare at her father for a moment as he watched her back for another moment. He knew full well what she was going to say. He'd learnt to read his daughter since he had first met her. It often stopped him from asking questions and being yelled at.

"I know why you never told me," Alison informed her father, moving to rest her back against the concrete wall. "I get that, dad...but...I can't help but feel a bit hurt that you didn't. Did you not trust me enough?"

A look of hurt passed through her eyes and Bond did his best not to shake his head and tell her how silly she was being.

"Of course I trust you," James replied. "I thought it best if you didn't know. I thought that it would be a lot safer for you. I've made sure that there is no link between us."

"I fully understand that," Alison promised him. "I'm grateful for it too. Honestly, I am. I just wish that you'd told me instead of spending all your time lying to me."

"I suppose the lie was easier to maintain," Bond informed her. "Did you honestly think your mother would have let me anywhere near you if she knew who I was?"

Biting down on her lip, Alison moved her gaze away from her father's orbs, doing her best to maintain her composure. "I guess not."

"I know that I could have told you when you got older. I suppose I thought it was safer to lie. I never meant for you to get hurt because of this," James promised her. "I'd understand completely if you feel angry."

"I did," Alison promised him. "Yesterday when Q and M told me, I wanted to do nothing more than get my hands on you and kill you myself."

"I hope that sentiment has died down," Bond said, a smirk on his face.

"Don't be too sure."

"I am certain that a shopping trip shall help keep me alive," James joked with his daughter, moving closer to her and placing both his hands on her cheeks, looking her in the eye as she sighed loudly and closed her eyes.

"It'll help," she finally replied, knowing full well that she couldn't be angry with her father. He thought he had done the right thing. He would never admit that he hadn't. Alison would never admit that he had. They were both as stubborn as each other, stuck in a rut that would never end.

Bond kissed her on the top of her head before flattening her hair behind her ear again.

"What happens now?" wondered Alison.

"I need to go and speak with M," James replied. "You can either stay here or come with me and wait outside the makeshift prison Silva's being kept in. I'm sure Q won't mind babysitting a little longer."

"I think I'd prefer to stay here," Alison said, wanting nothing to do with whatever was going on in _that _room. "And you shouldn't be so harsh on Q. He did save my life."

"I hardly think I'm being harsh," James replied. "I think that you'd have kept Q alive more than he kept you alive."

"I wouldn't say so," Alison replied, thinking back to what had happened the previous day. "You're okay though, aren't you?"

"Alison, it is my job to be shot at," James replied, his voice monotone. "It is not your job to be shot at. I am fine. There was nothing that I couldn't handle."

"I'm not supposed to know that," Alison replied. "Just...do you know how surreal this is for me? I've just learned that you're a spy. I mean, there's no manual telling me how to react. I don't know how to feel or what to do."

"You feel like your normally do," James promised her. "And you don't do anything. I'll keep you safe now that I'm back."

"I know," Alison replied and James kissed her on the top of the head again, unable to believe how lucky he was that she wasn't injured. He doubted he'd ever get over the feeling of relief that he felt.

"Right, you go back in there and I'll be back in a moment. Tell Q to get hurry up with the laptop."

"I'm not telling him anything," Alison smirked back and moved back into the room. She walked back down the steps, fiddling with the ends of her hair as Q heard her footsteps and looked over Silva's laptop screen.

"Dad told me to stay here," Alison whispered so that no one else could hear them. "He's gone to interview Silva."

"Right," nodded Q. "And how are you feeling now?"

"Fine, I guess," Alison replied with a sharp shrug. "I mean, it's all a bit odd to me."

"I suspect it will be for a bit. I trust you didn't kill him for the years of lies."

"You think I'd have a chance?" Alison smirked and Q shook his head, the laptop in front of him causing him to smirk. Silva certainly was a clever man. Q couldn't dispute that.

"I doubt you would," he replied. "Oh, the entire Division know who you are now. I thought I'd best mention it before you found out for yourself."

"How?" Alison wondered, not looking back at the people behind her.

"Well, Gerry decided it would be interesting to hack into the CCTV in the corridor. He sent a link to everyone else. Obviously he thought he could get away with it," Q said, flashing a look to Gerry. The man sunk back down his desk and continued to type with haste. "Let us say he has been placed on bin duty for a week."

"Actual bin duty?"

"Bin duty to a computer genius," Q informed her. "I'd explain...but..."

"I wouldn't understand," Alison replied, nodding to Q. "It's fine. I probably wouldn't understand."

"Anyway," Q coughed awkwardly. "Do you want to sit down? I'll carry on with this."

"Oh," Alison nodded. "That's fine."

She took a seat at Q's desk, observing the mug which sat there before she looked at the large screen in front of her and she wondered what Silva's game was.

...

A/N: Thank you to Fingirl and CaptainoftheUSSTardis for reviewing the previous chapter! I do hope you will review! More action in the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

"Interesting, yet complex," Q spoke as soon as he looked at Silva's laptop. Alison was stood to his right, bent over and resting her elbows on the table, her head held in her hands. Q occasionally allowed his eyes to drift down to her for some unbeknownst reason.

"Can you get into it?" a sudden voice asked.

Both of them turned around to see James lurking near the large monitor, his eyes focused on Q. Alison stood up straight and straightened out the white summer dress on her body before stepping back from Q.

"I created this," Q spoke, a smug look on his face as he turned to look at the large screen and a series of lines formed on it. Alison allowed her mouth to hang open as James came to stand next to her, resting his hand on the small of her back.

"It is odd though. Every time I try to gain access, it changes. It's like a Rubik's cube that's fighting back."

"Stop," James suddenly said and Alison looked at the screen, trying to figure out what he had seen. "Granborough. Granborough...it's a tube station on the Metropolitan line. It's been closed for years. Try it as a key."

"Gosh," Q spoke as soon as soon as he saw the screen begin to change.

Alison watched as red lines began to appear and Q placed his glasses further onto his nose before he watched Bond walk by the screen, his mind working over time.

"It's a map," Alison suddenly spoke, understanding what she was seeing.

"Of the Underground, yes," Q agreed with her. "Why does he need this?"

"Because it's part of his plan," James suddenly spoke, turning to look at Alison as she remained where she was, her brow cocked and a noise came from behind them. They turned around to look as glass panels lifted up from the floor.

"Why are the doors opening?" Q wondered.

"Because he's escaping," James snapped. "Alison, stay here and do whatever Q tells you to do."

"Where are you going?" Alison worried, watching as her father began to run off. She took a few steps forwards before she felt Q's hand on her arm, hauling her back to him. She didn't fight. She resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't even comprehend catching up with her father.

"He'll be fine," Q promised her. "Come on."

Alison allowed Q to keep hold of her wrist as he noted a flashing coming from Silva's laptop. He looked at the words before speaking, his hands moving through his hair.

_Not such a clever boy._

"Shit, shit, shit!" Q exclaimed and Alison couldn't help but think how odd it sounded to hear him swear in front of her. "Can someone explain to me how he hacked us?"

The workers around him said nothing in response and Q quickly disconnected Silva's laptop. He turned to lean back against the table before looking at the large screen on the wall. He couldn't believe that this had happened. Q had never been one to be beaten.

"He hacked into MI6," Alison whispered to herself so that Q couldn't hear her. She didn't believe it in a sense. She never thought that anyone could get into MI6. It showed just how clever the man was.

"Q, can you hear me?"

"You're on speaker," Q said as James's voice crackled into the room. Q stood by his desk and Alison stood to his side, listening in as her father spoke;

"Can you see me yet?" James wondered and Q began to type quickly before Bond's location flashed onto his screen.

"Ah, yes I can," Q spoke. "You need to keep going and there should be a door on your left. Open it."

"Yes," Bond spoke whilst Alison watched the screen.

"Oh, bugger," Q suddenly said. "Um, Bond, it seems that there is a train on the way."

"The door is locked," James snapped back.

Q frowned. "Put your back into it."

"You get down here and put your back into it," replied James, his voice snarky as Alison watched the train grow closer to her father's location. She thought negatively for a moment before she heard a gunshot. Her hand moved to clutch onto Q's arm and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Dad," she whispered and Q continued to watch the screen.

"I made it," James said.

"Thought you would," Q replied, turning to look down at Alison, moving his own hand to rest on her wrist that was on his arm. "You okay?" he whispered so that Bond couldn't hear him.

"Yeah," she replied. "Just...well...that was a bit tense."

"Yes, it was," Q replied back. "Right, you need to keep going until you come to the station."

"Got it," James agreed with that and Alison slowly moved her hand from the soft material of Q's cardigan. She stood still and watched where her father was before CCTV images came flashing up and Q did his best to try and find Silva.

"Welcome to rush hour on the tube. A problem I am sure you're not familiar with," Q said and Alison noticed her father's face on the CCTV. He was scrambling around, doing his best to find out where Silva had gotten to.

"Can you see him?" Bond wondered.

"I'm looking," Q said as the train began to get ready to leave. James rushed down the platform, his face one of intent as Alison tried to look for a sign of something suspicious on the screen before her.

"Q, do I get on the train?"

"Give me a minute," Q said, freezing one camera and zooming in. He rewound the footage and Alison finally saw the face of Raoul Silva. "Get on the train."

"What?"

"Get on the train," Q repeated and James groaned before running off.

Alison watched as the CCTV footage faded and her father leapt from the side of the platform. She had to admit that the sight before her was quite impressive.

"He's disguised as a policeman," Q said into the speaker. "Do you see him?"

"I'm looking," Bond said. "He's going after M. You need to alert Tanner to get her somewhere safe."

"On it," Q agreed and Alison kept silent before she heard a crackling sound from the speaker. Her and Q both looked at each other and they wondered what was going on before t he line went dead.

"Dad," Alison whispered harshly. "Dad?"

"The lines gone," Q said. "No doubt he's done something stupid to make that happen."

"Can you not keep following him?" Alison wondered from Q. "I mean, he's on the tube. There are hundreds of CCTV cameras."

"I can only follow where there are cameras," Q said, fully intent on sending the message he had to Tanner.

Alison and Q spent their time watching until Bond was out of sight and then there was nothing more that they could do. The workers behind Q had slowly begun to disperse, fully intent on going home for the evening and avoiding the rush hour traffic.

"He'll be fine, you know," Q told her as he went back to working and Alison shook her head, not too sure if she agreed with him or not. She pushed her hand through her hair and Q suddenly heard the line come back up.

"Q. Are you there?"

"Unfortunately overtime is part of my contract," replied Q. "What do you need?"

"I have M," James said. "Can you find me?"

"Tracking you now," Q said. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that Silva will find me," James replied.

"What?" Alison's shrill voice snapped and she leaned around Q to shout into the speaker. "Are you crazy? He could kill you, dad. You can't let him find you. Do you have a death wish?"

"Ali, you need to trust me on this," James informed his daughter. "You need to stay there with Q. It will be safer for you."

"No," Alison replied. "I can't let you go-"

"-I've been doing this for years," interrupted James. "I know what I'm doing. Q will look after you."

"It sounds as if I don't have a choice," he muttered back. "I assume you called for a reason?"

"You need to lay a trail for only Silva to follow," James informed the quartermaster. "No one else can know where we are going. We're going to get the upper hand over him."

Leaning in, Q whispered; "I trust this isn't entirely above board."

"Not entirely," agreed James.

"A career in espionage is always something I wanted," Q replied and he pressed his mug to his lips, draining more of the coffee. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Excellent," James spoke. "And look after my daughter."

"I'm not a child, dad," Alison snarled. "I can look after myself."

"And don't I know it," James groaned. "Just do as I tell you, Alison. Stay there. I will be back for you soon enough."

"Will you?" she wondered, her voice almost breaking as she did so.

James gulped as he continued to drive through the streets of London. How many times had he done this before? This was his job. He was good at his job. Why was he beginning to doubt himself?

"Yes," James said. "I'll speak to you later, Alison."

"Dad-" she was cut off by the sound of the line going dead.

She groaned and balled her hand into a fist as Q set about doing what Bond had asked of him. He kept quiet as he typed ferociously, doing his best not to remember he was doing something illegal. It took a few moments before Alison whispered to Q.

"Why do they want to kill M?"

"She swapped Silva for five other agents years ago," Q told her. "I think Silva sees himself as being betrayed by her. They say that he was getting too...well...reckless...M did what she had to do."

"It does sound a bit harsh," Alison commented and picked up the blanket she had earlier disregarded. She draped it over her shoulders again and watched as Q worked. "Where is he going up to?"

"I'll keep tabs on him and tell you as soon as I can," Q promised her, turning his glasses covered gaze to look at her. Nodding, Alison looked back across to Q, not too sure why he was staring at her with his wide eyes.

"You have his look," Q suddenly told her. "It's almost like seeing double."

"I do hope not," Alison managed to joke back and Q smirked.

"No, it suits you quite well."

Alison didn't know whether that was a compliment or an insult. She decided to leave it be and go back to watching Q work. The man turned back around to look at Silva's laptop, but the sight he saw at the back of the room horrified him more.

"Alison!" Q snapped and turned back around as gunfire rained through the room.

Screaming, Alison ducked down and Q grabbed hold of her, his arms around her waist and his hand pushing her head against the crook of his neck. He moved both of them under the table as the shots continued to move everywhere but at them. Q dared to look to the side, his eyes wide as all of his worker's computers were destroyed, shards of glass flying everywhere.

The shots finally stopped and Alison lifted her head up, her breathing deep as Q looked her in the eye, not bothering to ask if she was alright. He knew the answer to that already. She kept still as footsteps crunched through the materials on the floor and made their way towards them.

Q pushed himself out from under the desk and took hold of her hand as they stood up and backed away. He stood in front of Alison, the younger girl holding onto his wrist as they finally hit the wall at the back of the room.

"Miss Holmes, isn't it?" a drawling voice asked her.

He had a distinct accent. His bleach blond hair was pushed from his face and a tan suit covered his muscular body. Alison gulped and Q moved his wrist from her hand before he took hold of her fingers.

"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced," the man informed her. "My name is Raoul. Raoul Silva."

Gulping, Alison's hand kept hold of Q's and he pushed his glasses further onto his nose and held his head high.

"What do you want with her?"

Raoul laughed and Q felt a shudder run through him at the sound.

"Is it not obvious?" Raoul asked. "I want her."

"Why?" Alison wondered. "I don't know where my dad is...we don't know anything."

"No need to play coy, darling," he promised her. "I could find your father with a click of a button, like the dear quartermaster here. No, you're here to lure him out and make my job easier."

"And if I won't?" Alison dared to ask, still hiding behind Q's slim figure.

"I am sure I can persuade you," Silva assured her. "Now come along and take a seat. We need a little discussion."

...

A/N: I don't mean to leave it on a cliffhanger, but there will be an update soon enough. In the meantime, I hope you're all having a nice weekend and thanks for reading. I do hope you will review too!


	7. Chapter 7

Q did his best to keep hold of Alison as two of Silva's men approached him, small pistols in their hands. The quartermaster watched as Silva had his men sit her down in a seat and then keep their guns pointed on her. Silva moved closer, bending down and resting his hands on his thighs.

"So, how does it feel?" he wondered before nodding to one man. They moved into their pocket to produce a piece of rope. Alison remained seated where she was, not intending to go along with whatever Silva wanted from her.

"How does what feel?" Alison wondered from him as he moved around her seat and bent down to grab both of her wrists behind her back. Alison squirmed about in his hold before he looked back to Q.

"Don't fight," he urged her. "It will do you no good. It won't do much to help the quartermaster either."

Tossing her head over her shoulder, she looked back to Q as he remained stood behind her, his eyes wide. He didn't dare move, knowing that one step would end up with him being shot. No, he would stay where he was and plan what to do.

Resorting to defeat, Alison kept her hands still and felt her wrists being bound together. Silva bent down in front of her again and decided to move his own hands to rest on her bare thighs. Alison winced, but did her best to contain her emotions. She didn't want him to see how scared she was.

"Now," whispered Silva, his thumbs moving in circles over her sink, "truly, how did it feel when you realised who daddy was?"

Alison kept quiet, biting down on her bottom lip and Silva moved his hand up to brush her hair behind her ear. He took a seat and sat opposite hers, his knees knocking against hers as he patiently waited for an answer. Her gaze moved over his shoulder to look at Q and he watched her back, one hand moving into his pocket as he contemplated finding his phone there. But there was nothing, the device was stuck in his anorak.

"Do you not intend to talk, Ali?" wondered Silva. "Come on, sweetheart. We have both been wronged."

"I'd say that your wronging was much more severe than mine," Alison finally spoke and Silva cocked a brow before tilting his head. He folded his legs and leaned forwards, his chin resting in the open palm of his hand. He did his best to weigh the girl up.

"You think that I was wronged? Well, well, well," he chuckled, looking to the two men with him, "she certainly has her own opinion. What do you think daddy would say if he heard this?"

"I said that you were wronged," Alison said. "I didn't say that I agree with everything that you've done."

The smirk fell from his face before he leaned back and pushed a hand through his hair, the blonde locks parting against his fingertips.

"How did you get in here?" Q wondered, sensing the change in atmosphere suddenly. Alison's words had caused Silva to become tenser. The former agent turned to look at the quartermaster. Q didn't flinch under his gaze; instead he stood tall, doing his best to draw the attention away from Alison.

"I broke out of a cage," Silva informed him. "Did you honestly think that breaking in would be that difficult for me? I hacked into MI6. Everything is easy when you know how to do it."

"Then you should be aware that Bond is not here," Q spoke calmly. "Killing his daughter will not help you."

Placing a hand over his chest, Silva blinked profusely. "Who said anything about killing her?"

He turned back to look at Alison and shook his head, a loud tut escaping him as he did so.

"Then what is the grand plan?" she wondered. "My dad will make sure it is foiled anyway."

"Will he?" wondered Silva, his tone one of disbelief. "I doubt that. You see, Bond has a weakness, just like everyone else."

He leaned forwards again, his hand moving to stroke against her cheek. She did her best to recoil from his touch, shifting around in her chair as Q gulped at seeing Silva with his hands on her. Bond would kill him for allowing this to happen.

"You look like him," Silva said, grabbing her chin in his fingers roughly, "in a certain light."

Alison pulled her chin from his hand and he moved his fingertips to rest against her neck, lightly tapping the skin there as she felt her stomach begin to churn. He moved closer to her, speaking lowly as his other hand rested on her shoulder.

"Daddy spent years lying to you. Daddy is the one who has done this to you, Alison. He betrayed your trust. He almost had you killed because of it. Do you think he really cares about you? And now, he runs off with his boss. He runs off with her and leaves you in the care of some man who sits at a computer all day. Did he honestly think that he could protect you?"

Alison gulped as Silva's lips brushed against her ear. She kept her gaze focused on Q, doing her best not to listen to the words she heard. Q stared back, silently urging her not to listen as he squinted through the glasses he wore.

Pulling back, Silva looked at her and ran his hand down the side of her body before looking her in the eye.

"Mummy lied to me, just like Daddy lied to you."

Grinding her teeth together, Alison's chin jutted out and she spoke three words that told Silva that she refused to cooperate.

"Go to hell."

Leaning back, he observed her with caution before a sad look crossed his face and he looked her in the eye.

"I don't hit women," he replied quietly before nodding to a man who stood by the desk. He moved off to Alison and slapped her across the face, the back of his hand making contact with her cheek. She didn't yell out in pain as her head fell to the side and her cheek began to sting.

The sound echoed through Q's ears and he took a step forwards as Silva stood up from the seat.

"You'll soon see that my way is the only way in all of this," he warned her. "Now, do you intend to come quietly?"

"Where are you taking her?" wondered Q. "Are you going to hurt her?"

"Is this care, Q?" Silva asked and Alison finally moved her head to look at the sight in front of her. Silva was stood in front of Q, his hands in his suit pocket and the quartermaster's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Is Bond's daughter that much of a concern to you?"

"She is not her father," Q said. "Surely you can get to Bond without her?"

"Oh, I do not doubt it," Silva said. "She is not valuable to us, nor is Bond. No, we just need to lure him out. That is all. She'll do the job nicely."

"I see," replied Q and Silva nodded bluntly.

"You can stay here, quartermaster," Silva said. "Tell Bond that we're coming for him and have his precious daughter. It doesn't matter. Alert security, they won't stop us. Nothing can stop us now."

"He'll be prepared," warned Q. "You know that as well as I do."

"Then imagine the surprise when I turn up with her," spoke Silva and he turned to grab Alison by the elbow, hauling her to her feet and keeping her by his side.

Q held his hand and moved with haste, the guns still trained on him as he realised that he had to do something. He had to keep tabs on her somehow. His phone was in his coat. He needed it to track her.

"I hardly think it practical to let her go without a coat," Q awkwardly spoke and Alison's brow furrowed and he noted that her lip had been cut.

He grabbed a tissue as he picked his anorak up from the back of his chair. He moved forwards as Silva released her for a moment and watched with intrigue as Q placed his anorak around her shoulders, pulling it tightly around her.

"Will you kill her?" Q asked; his question blunt and he saw her shudder. Q's gaze remained on Alison as he used the back of his hand to brush her hair from her face, his knuckles grazing over her cheek as he did so. He curled his hand around the back of her neck before dabbing the tissue on her lip.

"Not if Bond surrenders," Silva replied. "It is not him or her who I want."

"I know that," Q replied.

"Don't worry," Silva said, "you can have her back when we're done with her."

"Yes," Q said, his voice shaking slightly. "Thank you...obviously...it would be nice..."

"Nice?" Alison checked and Q shrugged, continuing to dab at the blood as Silva grew irritated with the lack of progress being made. He kept quiet for a few moments, doing his best not to get angry with her.

"More than nice, I should suspect," whispered Q so that only she could hear. "Having an assistant has been different."

Alison moved quickly then, pressing her lips against Q's cheek. He remained shocked for a moment before he gathered the energy to whisper back to her.

"I'll be watching," he assured her. "Nothing will happen to you."

She kept her eyes closed as she moved her cheek back from Q's clean shaven skin. He nodded at her and Silva moved then, grabbing her by the elbow again.

"That was very touching," he commented. "I dare say that it was rather sickening."

Q said nothing as Silva began to move out from the room, not giving Q another look. He clearly thought that the quartermaster was unimportant. He had hacked his way into MI6, for goodness sake's. No wonder he thought that Q was incompetent.

Alison turned her head back to look at Q for another moment and he gave her a stern nod before she was taken from view and he was left alone in the room. He dropped the tissue to the floor and turned on his heel, working on the one computer that Silva hadn't destroyed with his guns.

"If Bond survives this then he will kill me," whispered Q, typing with haste. "And I imagine it won't be a pleasant death."

...

A/N: Thanks to Guest for reviewing the previous chapter! If you are reading then it would be immense that you could let me know as it really is encouraging! Please do let me know what you think and thanks for reading thus far!


	8. Chapter 8

Q stood at his desk, typing more ferociously than he ever had done. He stood tall and remained looking at the large screen in front of him. He had told security what had happened, but now he had to tell Bond.

Getting hold of the man seemed difficult. He wondered if Bond had thrown his phone away. It seemed likely. And then Q had a brain wave. He slowly walked over to Alison's left behind satchel and peeled the lid open. He looked inside, searching for her mobile. He pulled the iPhone out and began to scroll through her contacts.

"Certainly a popular girl," muttered Q as he finally found 'Dad'.

He pressed to call, wondering if 007 had two separate phones; one for business, and one for Alison. That seemed to be the case when James picked up on the second ring.

"Alison, what's wrong?"

"Ah, 007," Q said, his palms sweating as he held the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "It's Q."

"Q?" James checked. "What are you doing on Ali's phone?"

"Now, you see, I have to tell you something," Q replied. "It isn't the best news, but you have to know that there was nothing I could do. As soon as he came...well...he was threatening to shoot. He was crazy, Bond."

"Q, you're making no sense," Bond replied, pacing up and down as he held the phone to his ear. "Where's Alison?"

"She's not here," admitted Q. "She's on the way to Scotland."

"With who?" Bond asked. He knew the answer. He already knew the answer. Why was he asking the question?

"Silva."

Q heard a few explicit words from the other end before the slamming of a fist against something hard. Closing his eyes, Q continued to track Alison's location from his phone before he heard Bond speak again.

"This had best be some bloody joke, Q," Bond said, "because if I make it out of here alive then I will personally kill you."

"I thought you might say something like that," Q whispered down the phone. "I tried to stop them, Bond. It is difficult when there are guns pointed at you. Silva tried to turn her against you. He told her how you betrayed her. She didn't buy it, of course."

"Why did he take her?" Bond wondered. "She doesn't know where I am."

"That doesn't matter. He knows that he can lure you out with her, Bond. She's your daughter. She means the world to you. You're not going to let her die, are you?" Q replied. "You need to gain the upper hand somehow. When he comes, you need to be prepared."

"He'll have my daughter at gun point!" James snapped down the phone. "What do you expect me to do, Q? How can I gain the upper hand?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," muttered Q. He kept quiet for a moment, checking the time before he groaned, knowing full well that Silva would be with Bond soon enough. "She needs you, Bond."

"And don't I bloody well know it," 007 grumbled. "Did he hurt her at all?"

Q considered lying, but he knew that Bond would find the truth out. He had a habit of doing that.

"She said something he didn't like," Q said. "He said that he didn't slap women...so...he got one of his men to slap her."

"Bastard," Bond snarled, fully intent on making his life hell when he got his hands on him. "Are you keeping tabs on her?"

"She's on her way up to Scotland now. I gave her my anorak which had my phone inside of it. But...she's travelling at an alarming rate, Bond. I think she might be flying."

"Jesus Christ," complained Bond. "How could I let this happen? How could I leave her-"

"-You left her because it was the safest option at the time. MI6 is supposed to be the safest place. You thought he would come after you, not get her first. This is hardly your fault." Q interrupted. "Self-pity won't help you now, Bond."

Q could hear the grinding of teeth from the other side of the line and he leant back against his desk, exhaustion taking a hold of him as he thought of everything that had just happened.

"Keep track of her," Bond said. "Make sure she...if she..."

"I'll do my best by her," Q promised James. "I'm sure that you don't want her mother to know about this, do you?"

James sighed heavily then. He hadn't thought of her mother in a while. He'd not considered her.

"Only if something happens," Bond said. "And I will do my damned best to make sure it doesn't."

"Understood," nodded Q, looking back to the screen.

He was about to hang up before he heard Bond have the final say;

"And if I do get out of this, then I will kill you first Q. You said it yourself; a trigger can do enough damage."

The line went dead and Q groaned under his breath before he went back to work.

...

"I trust you've never been on a helicopter," Silva spoke as he sat besides Alison on the journey. She was leant back in the middle seat, her wrists still bound together as Silva placed the headset over her ears. She pulled back from his cold hands and he pulled the anorak she wore tighter around her.

"Your father certainly has. Believe me, MI6 allow people to travel in luxury."

Keeping quiet, Alison turned to look out of the other window as she wondered what Q was doing. She could only hope that he was tracking her and had told her father. Silva sighed audibly and moved his hand to brush against her thigh.

"You know, the dear quartermaster didn't seem too happy that we were there," Silva commented and Alison closed her eyes, doing her best not to think about that. "Is there something going on between you two? Does daddy know?"

"No," Alison said. "There is nothing going on between us."

"My men say that he was the one who found you in the French patisserie," Silva continued, his hand moving up to brush her hair from her shoulder. "It does look suspicious."

"Does it?" Alison wondered. "Q has been kind enough to stay with me through all of this mess. This mess which, may I add, is your entire fault?"

"You may add," Silva assured her. "I do not think that it will do you any good, darling."

Keeping quiet, Alison thought back to her father and what may happen once they reached Scotland. She didn't truly want to know. The fear inside of her continued to rise. She only hoped that Q had managed to get to her father and tell him what was going to happen.

Darkness soon settled over the helicopter and Alison's attention snapped back to the opening door. She peered through the window on Silva's side of the helicopter, her gaze wide as she saw a large house come into view. Her brow furrowed as she wondered why her father would be in there.

Did he own this house?

"Skyfall," Silva suddenly drawled to her. "It was your grandparent's home. Did you not know that?"

Alison said nothing for a moment, deciding that it would be for the best to keep quiet. She watched as one of Silva's men knelt on the floor, a large gun in his hands as Alison finally realised what he was about to do.

"You can't!" she called out above the noise of the rushing wind.

Silva's gaze turned back to her as he gave the signal for the shots to be fired. Alison squirmed in her seat, trying to pull her wrists free from the rope that they were held in.

"You will find that I can," Silva promised her as she watched the house become riddled with gunfire. Alison did her best to push against Silva, her anger taking hold of her. The former agent grabbed her by the hair and pushed her from her seat. She fell to the floor and he kept his hand in her hair as he watched for any retaliation from Bond.

But there was nothing. Obviously he wasn't going to do anything whilst his daughter was still in the helicopter. Alison fought against Silva as the helicopter finally lowered down and he jumped out of the open door. He took Alison all with him, still holding her hair in his hands as she stumbled behind him.

"I know you're in there, Bond!" he roared to the house, looking for any sign of life. "I have something of yours out here! Why don't you come and get her?"

"No!" Alison snapped back.

She heard no movement from inside of the house as Silva barked a command at one of his men. Alison wondered what was happening as Silva worked about tying her ankles together.

"What is this?" Alison wondered. "What are you going to do?"

"He won't come out. You can go in to him," Silva snarled. "I know that Q won't be best pleased with me. He did seem to harbour a slight crush for you."

Alison felt Q's anorak fall from her shoulders as Silva tossed her over his shoulder and stormed towards the end of the house, intent on opening the wooden door at the end. He kicked it down; his leather coat flowing behind him as Alison uncontrollably squirmed.

"Be a good girl," Silva told her. "They say that death is quick."

"What?" snapped Alison as she felt Silva drop her to the floor in an old looking room. She could see a table and some chairs, but there was nothing else to give away where she was. She heard the door slam and the sound of more gunshots echoed through her.

She looked around for any sign of her dad. She longed for him not to come to her. She wanted him to stay away and be safe.

Silva stood outside the room where he had left Alison, a small grenade in his hand as he waited for Bond to enter the room. Only then would he throw it and watch the house go up in flames. Bond had survived his gunshots. He wouldn't come out when he shouted him.

This was the only way. He would go after his daughter when he realised she was inside of their family home.

Soon enough, he was proven right.

"Alison!" James shouted as the house slowly set on fire. He coughed once before turning to the pantry in the end room, looking for any sign of his daughter. He'd seen Silva dragging her by the front of the house and that had been the final time he'd seen her.

"No!" Alison yelled out loud. "Dad! Go! It is a trap!"

James had no interest in traps. He'd set a few of those up himself. As soon as he set foot in the pantry, he heard the sound of gunshots through the wooden panels on the windows. He ducked down and ran past them before he heard the familiar sound of a grenade. The explosion heated the room up as Bond pushed the table in the centre of the room over, hiding behind it and shielding Alison with his own body, as the flames rushed above them against the table.

The explosion quietened down and the fire soon began. James stood up with haste and grabbed his daughter, pushing her into his arms. She placed her tied wrists around his neck as he ran from the pantry, jumping over the growing fire as he searched for the hidden passage out of the house.

"What is this?" Alison wondered as he set her down in the small opening, shielding her from the flames. He ducked down and helped to untie her ankles before going onto her wrists.

"Secret exit," Bond said. "Wait for me here, Alison."

"What are you going to do?" Alison worried from him.

"I'm going to do what Silva wants me to do; burn this house down," James replied and Alison had no option but to watch her father run into the house.

She heard more gunshots before a light shone into the room and she hid away in the corner, nervously looking around for any sign of her father. She soon found him rushing into the room and he took hold of her hand.

"We need to go," he urged.

James led the way down the corridor, making sure Alison kept up with him. It was only once he was halfway through when he heard the booming noise from above. He looked back over his shoulder and Alison did the same, fear welling up inside of her.

"Run!" James commanded her.

She did as her father had told her, running with haste behind him as she felt the heat of flames gain close on her trail. James jumped into a hidden alcove, pulling Alison along with him.

It was only then when he heard the screams come from his daughter. His blood ran cold as he saw the flames against her skin, her leg a different colour to the rest of her body. She screamed so loudly that James almost panicked.

Pulling his jacket off, her wrapped it around her leg and extinguished the flames, knowing full well that his daughter was going to suffer because of this. He knelt on the floor besides Alison as she watched her leg and her body shook.

"Okay, okay," James whispered to her. "I've got you, Ali. I've got you."

"Dad," Alison sobbed, "Oh God...it hurts..."

"I know," replied James, not too sure what he should do. He knew that he had to get her to the hospital. She needed medical attention. James could see that. "I know, Alison. It will get better, I promise you. I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay...okay..." Alison said and James knew that she was about to go into shock.

He had a decision to make at that moment in time. M or his daughter. James knew that M's life was in danger, but his daughter was injured. She was his main concern. He pulled his personal phone from his pocket as he searched for the number to Alison's mobile, hoping that Q would answer it.

He was lucky enough for that to happen.

"Q, I need you to do something for me!" snapped Bond down the phone.

"What is it?"

"I need an air ambulance to Skyfall. Alison is injured."

"What?" Q retorted, typing away on the screen and having the message through in a moment. "I sent extra helicopters in pursuit of Silva too. As soon as he had taken Alison I thought it would be necessary."

"I haven't seen any," James replied as he kept Alison cradled to his side.

"They're on the way. Silva kept redirecting them whenever I told them where to go," Q snapped back. "What has happened to Alison?"

"Burn to her leg," James said, the guilt of what had happened eating him up. He couldn't help but think that this was his fault. He managed to pick his daughter up into his arms, his jacket around her shoulders as she sobbed, doing her best to ignore the pain she felt.

"I've got an air ambulance on the way, and the nearest hospital has been advised," Q assured Bond.

"Good," James said, stumbling his way back down the corridor. "And M? Can you track her?"

"Not a chance," Q said. "There is nothing to help me on that front. She's a mystery to me. Do you know where she is?"

"No, but I know that Silva would have gone after her." Bond said as he finally felt the fresh air against his skin.

He walked a good distance from the house before he set his daughter down on the floor. She sat up straight and James pressed a finger to her pulse.

"You need to lie down," he urged her. "You're going into shock, Alison."

Nodding, his daughter took a deep breath and did what had been told of her.

"What are you going to do, Bond?" whispered Q down the line. "She's going into shock, I assume."

"She is," Bond said. "She is my daughter. What am I supposed to do?"

"Go and find M," Alison answered for him. She looked up and peered into his eyes, nodding with haste. "You need to stop him."

"You need me here," Bond responded.

"She needs you more," Alison said. "Just go...dad...do it! You'll be back before the ambulance. I know you will be."

"I'll stay on the line with her," Q promised James. "I'll keep tracking her for you."

"Just go!" Alison snapped and Bond dropped the phone into her hand, pressing her fingers tightly around the device.

"I'll be back for you," he assured her. "Alison, I will come back."

"I know," she replied and Bond closed his eyes and felt his chest grow heavy as he set out in pursuit of Silva.

"Alison?" Q spoke as he heard her deep breath down the phone. "Do you want me to keep you distracted?"

"Unless you have a litre of vodka and an ibuprofen then I don't think you can distract me," Alison replied and she rested her back on the floor, looking into the night sky as she heard the sound of fire from Skyfall.

"I don't think that you're supposed to take alcohol and painkillers together," Q replied to her. "And I'm afraid I can't help you there. But I can keep talking to you to help ease some of the pain until the ambulance arrives."

Q stood in his office, not looking at his computer screen for once as he stood in the middle of the room. His eyes were looking down as he kept her iPhone pressed against his ear and concentrated on her voice.

"It...what you said..." Alison whispered down the phone. "Have you been tracking me the entire time?"

"The entire time," Q promised her. "I've been tracking you for quite a while. I imagine I shall soon have a restraining order placed on me."

A guttural laugh came from her end of the line. She felt her throat clench as Q gulped and continued to speak.

"It's been difficult," he told her, "looking out for you. You've made my life more interesting so far."

"Not for the better," Alison whispered to him.

"I don't know," Q responded. "It's been interesting having you around. You're certainly different to my usual team. I don't think a job in Q Division is for you. You're not exactly technologically gifted."

"I'm not really gifted at anything apart from drinking and partying," Alison admitted, her eyes closing and a groan escaping her as she felt her leg ache around her.

"I gathered that from your Facebook page," Q said and Alison allowed her lips to tug upwards as soon as he had said it.

"Have you been Facebook stalking me, Q?" she wondered from him. "I'd say that confirms your stalker status."

"You've got me," Q replied to her. "I looked when your dad first told me of you."

"I don't know what to think of that," Alison replied. "I don't what to think of these entire four days."

"It makes you wish that you never learnt the truth," Q assumed.

"No," Alison replied. "I'd never have met you then, would I?"

Alison wondered if she was hallucinating at that moment in time. Why had she said that? She didn't know. She could only assume that Q thought she was now as crazy as she felt she was.

"Well, it has been a pleasure meeting you," Q said to her. "I do assume that this is not a goodbye."

"I do hope not," Alison said. "Goodbyes normally indicate death, and I can't see Silva around so I assume I'm safe for the time being...and...dad..."

"He'll stop him," Q promised her.

"I know," Alison said, her faith in her father unwavering. "Hey, Q, you never did tell me your real name."

"I do prefer Q," he responded. "It does sound much more mysterious."

"Yeah, but if we go for a drink then I can hardly call you Q, can I?" Alison checked with him.

"You want to go for a drink with me?" Q checked with her. "I think Bond would shoot me if he heard of that."

"I think I owe you after saving my life," Alison replied. "So do you intend to tell me what your name is?"

"My name isn't exactly a-"

"-Can you hear that?" Alison wondered as Q strained to hear the noise in the distance.

"It's the ambulance," he told her. "They'll find you out soon enough, Alison."

"Thank you," Alison whispered.

"Ali!"

Q frowned as he heard Bond come closer to his daughter and he knelt by her as the paramedics emerged from the helicopter.

"Q, are you there?" Bond checked as he took the phone from his daughter.

"Yes, did you get him?"

"No," Bond said, his tone full of regret. "He got to M before I could save her...she...she's dead, Q. We failed. I need you to begin tracking for any sign of Silva. The agents who arrived are looking now."

"And you?" Q wondered.

"I'm going to the hospital with Alison," Bond said as Alison felt her vision go blurry. She felt faint, and she had no idea why. She closed her eyes and reached for her dad. Bond looked at her, dropping his phone to the floor.

"Alison," he whispered her name. "Ali...stay with me..."

"Bond?" Q spoke, his voice entering the cold air of Scotland as Bond completely forgot about his mobile and did his best to stop his daughter from going into shock.

Q stood in the midst of MI6, his ears still listening to everything that was happening hundreds of miles away from him. The line finally went dead and he dropped her iPhone to the desk and felt numb for the first time in a while.

Looking at her satchel, Q picked it up and slung it over his shoulder before knowing what he was going to spend his evening doing. He'd go and deliver the bag back to her, and if that meant travelling to Scotland, then he would take a sick day off and do it.

...

A/N: Thank you very much to Sunday, gillyhelbee, teamrosalie21137, CaptainoftheUSSTardis and NewSlove for reviewing the previous chapter! I hope you'll let me know what you think so far!


	9. Chapter 9

"The burn is quite severe, I am afraid to say."

Bond stood in the middle of the corridor, his arms folded across his chest and his fingers massaging his chin. He stood still, watching as the specialist consultant continued to read from his clipboard. James peered over his shoulder for a moment, looking into Alison's room as his daughter slept soundly.

"She's been given a tetanus booster shot because the wound is quite open, which means that it is prone to infection. We've dressed the wound and she is breathing steadily after going into shock. Thankfully we didn't need to take her into surgery for a skin graft. You managed to stop the burning from doing a lot more damage. You must have acted quickly."

"Yes," James said, "just not soon enough."

"But you stopped a lot of damage," the doctor promised James. "There will be a scar, and her leg won't look normal again. We'll keep her in for two days, and after that she needs rest and to make sure she changes the bandage."

"Of course," James nodded. "But...she'll be okay?"

"The nerves in her leg may be damaged, but I'm hoping that they won't be," the doctor said. "Apart from that, there is nothing more to it."

"Thank you," James said and he moved into his daughter's room and took his seat in the chair next to her bed. He knew full well what he had to do. He had to call her mother. He could only assume how horrific that would be.

...

"How could you let this happen?" Maria Holmes snapped as soon as she saw James at the end of the corridor. A tall dark haired man walked next to her as she shrugged her shoulders, her arms stretched out by her sides as she glowered at him.

"I didn't ask for this to happen, Maria," James said to her.

He'd managed to lie to her about Alison's accident. He'd discussed it with his daughter, and he still felt bad about lying to her. He hadn't said anything more on the matter. Alison told him that it would be for the best if he lied, considering that Maria would never let Alison see him again if the truth was told.

"You took her to Scotland without my permission," Maria hissed, bringing her bag further onto her shoulder. "And then someone sets fire to your house...and now my daughter is in hospital with a burn to her leg."

"She's safe now," James replied, shaking his head back and forth. "She is a twenty year old woman, Maria. She can make her own decisions without your permission."

"Maria is still her mother," the man next to her interrupted. He flattened down the tie to his suit and rested his hand on Maria's shoulder. The woman straightened out the red dress she wore as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Leave it, Carl," Maria replied. "James has always been stubborn."

"Do you know how bad I feel?" James wondered from the woman. "I know that I was then when someone hurt our daughter. I know that I should have been there for her. I'm sorry...I never wanted this to happen..."

"Well, it did," Maria said with a curt nod, knowing that this wasn't James fault. She just needed someone to blame for her daughter's injury. "As soon as Alison is ready then she is coming back to Manchester with me. She's not staying with you, James."

"Maria-"

"-I think that's final," the man said and James could only assume that he was Carl. "Alison is financially supported by us. We take care of her when she comes home."

"Who are you?" wondered James. "Alison is my daughter. She is old enough to speak for herself."

"I'm Carl," he replied. "I'm the one who knows-"

"-Don't," interrupted James. "Don't even speak about my daughter. You are just her mother's latest-"

"-Watch your tongue," Maria sniped at James before he could say anything more. "You are one to talk about having latest conquests. I know what you were like, James. Now, I am here for my daughter, not to argue."

Maria held her hands up between the two men, nodding bluntly as she did so. "Do you think we can be mature about this?"

"She's sleeping for a bit," James told the mother of his child. "She keeps dozing. She'll probably wake up when you go in."

"Okay," Maria said, taking hold of Carl's hand. "We'll go and see her."

"You do that," James said, watching as she entered the room, her hand over her mouth as she looked at her daughter.

James did his best to remain calm as he ran his hands down his cheeks and turned around, beginning to walk down the hall. That was when he saw a familiar sight. His brow furrowed as he noticed the man at the end of the corridor. He continued walking towards him, his strides long and purposeful.

"What are you doing here?" wondered James. "Did you not hear my warning last time we spoke?"

"I suppose you could try to kill me," he replied, pushing his glasses further onto his nose as he did so. "I am in the right place to be treated."

"Why are you here?" James asked and Q looked at 007 before he pulled the satchel from his shoulder and dangled it before James. "You came all of this way to bring Alison's satchel back to her?"

Q awkwardly allowed a cough to escape him before he looked down the ward, trying to see if he could see Alison's room.

"Well, she has my anorak too," Q responded.

"I think that's been burnt with the house," James said. "I'm sure the new head of Q Division can afford a new one."

"I liked that anorak," Q muttered. He finally allowed his brow orbs to look James in the eye. "How is she?"

"The burn isn't as bad as it could have been," James assured Q. "She's with her mother at this moment."

"I heard the shouting match from around the corner," admitted Q. "I thought that it would be best to stay away until they'd gone in. Where is the burn?"

"On her leg," James said, keeping Alison's satchel on his shoulder. "It wasn't pretty, but the doctor's told her that she's going to have a scar. She was lucky that she didn't have to have a skin graft."

Q saw the anguish in Bond's face. For a man so calm and controlled, it was odd to see Bond suffering. It was strange to see him with emotions other than anger.

"I need a cup of earl grey," Q said. "Do you feel like joining me?"

Bond allowed his lips to tug upwards as Q folded his arms over his brow cardigan. "Besides, I need to talk to you about Silva."

"I thought so."

James and Q walked silently through the corridors until they came to the canteen. Q ordered himself a tea and Bond grabbed a polystyrene cup of coffee. Both of them sat at a wooden table in the corner, keeping out of everyone's way.

"Have you found him at all? Have you managed to track him?"

"He shot all of the computers in Q Division apart from mine," Q replied. "I have one of my best on the case whilst I'm here."

"So why are you not on the case?"

"Because I am drinking a coffee with you," Q said. "I've been working on the train, trying to find him, but it's impossible. It is like he has disappeared again, Bond."

"Damn him," Bond muttered. "And M? What happened to her?"

"She was flown back to London this morning," Q whispered, closing his eyes as he thought of the loss to MI6. "The funeral should be in another week. MI6 work quickly, as you know."

"I know it too well," Bond whispered.

"What are you going to do? Do you think Silva will come back for you?"

"Who knows what he will do?" muttered Bond, tearing open a sachet of sugar to pour into his cup. He leant back in his seat and pushed his hand through his hair. The tiredness was slowly coming over him.

"He's still on the most wanted list," Q assured him. "He's the top priority. Even though he has gotten what he wants, who is to say that he doesn't want more? Who is to say that this is the end?"

"No one," Bond admitted. "I'll be back to searching for him soon enough."

"And Alison? Do you think he has finished with her?"

"I don't know," admitted Bond. "Maria wants to take her back to Manchester...but...I don't know if it would for the best. I want her to stay with me for a while longer. I want her to be safe."

"She is twenty," Q said. "I was designing...well...never matter. I suppose she is old enough to decide what she wants to do. She just needs to have your support on the matter."

"I'll speak to her when Maria and Carl leave us alone. So why are you really here, Q?"

"Excuse me?" Q asked, sipping on his tea as James titled his head to the side and cocked a brow. "I told you why I came."

"You came all the way to Scotland to drop her bag off," James said. "I don't believe it, Q. Tell me the truth before I find it out anyway."

Gulping, Q shook his head and looked away, wondering if he dare admit it to Bond. He supposed he had no other choice but to speak the truth. Bond would find out, regardless of anything.

"Alison is...well...she's a nice girl," Q admitted. "I've been with her for the past few days, and as soon as you told me what had happened...well...I wanted to see her. I can't explain it."

"You don't need to," James said.

He had dealt with his fair share of women in his time. He'd even dealt with his own emotions sometimes. He knew when a man was attracted to a woman. He knew when a woman was attracted to a man. He didn't even want to consider that happening with Q and his daughter.

"She's still at university," James reminded Q. "She's going into her final year."

"I know."

"So, whatever you feel, well...stop it, Q," James urged him. "She's a pretty girl, I get that. You're a nerdy boy-"

"-Stop," Q urged James. "I know that. I don't want anything like that from her. Believe me; as soon as I have seen her then I will go. I just wanted to be sure she was okay. She's nice, Bond."

"You've known her for four days," James reminded Q. "How much can you know about her?"

"Enough," Q replied solemnly. "Honestly, Bond. You do not need to worry about anything like that."

"Glad to hear it." Bond said. "Because I still have that customised gun you gave me."

...

Bond allowed Q to go in and see Alison as soon he had found out that her mother had gone for some fresh air. James searched for Maria, wanting to know what was going to happen once Alison was discharged.

"Q," Alison said, shock in her voice as she saw him move into the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, well," Q pointed to the satchel Bond had dropped by the foot of her bed. "I thought that I should bring that back. And you do have my anorak and phone."

"I think that might have been destroyed," Alison replied and Q remained stood where he was, his hands in his pockets as he looked at her.

He took in her dishevelled appearance, all the way from her greasy blonde hair to her gaunt looking face. He saw that her eyes were drooping and he thought that he could see tears forming in them. She was covered in a blue gown and the duvet was pulled up to her chin as she sat against the cushions of the bed.

"You look terrible," Q conversed before he took a seat in the spare chair by her bed.

He elicited a laugh from her as she watched him sit. She laced her fingers together and left them on her stomach. "I've looked better. I can't wait for the day when the shower comes."

"That should be soon, I hope," Q replied and a grin played on her features.

"So, why are you here?" Alison asked. "I didn't think that I would see you in Scotland."

"No," Q said, entwining both of his hands together and looking down to them. He bit down on his tongue for a moment as he thought of what to tell her. "I suppose I felt that it would be for the best if I came. Your dad said you were injured so I thought I'd be a good visitor."

"A good visitor normally brings chocolate," Alison informed him, "or a get well card. Either is acceptable, perhaps both."

"Well, the shop downstairs were out of those," he lied to her. "And I know what Bond is like."

"Yeah," Alison scoffed, "I do now. He told me that he is going back to work to find Silva."

"It would help if we had any idea as to where he is," Q said. "I haven't heard anything at all. He'll be keeping low for a while, I assume."

"Forever would be nicer," Alison mumbled and Q saw the tears begin to glisten. Finally, one rolled down her cheek.

"What is it?" Q asked. "Is it your leg?"

"No," Alison replied, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm fine; honestly, there is nothing wrong with me."

"There is usually something wrong when someone starts crying," Q contradicted. "You can tell me, you know. I have saved your life before."

Alison finally lifted her chin up so that she could look Q in the eye, a loud sniff escaping her as she did so. She kept quiet for a moment before her lips parted and she sucked in a deep breath.

"I think my mum hates me," Alison said. "She came in...and she...she told me...that I had to go back to Manchester. Apparently I lied to her about coming to Scotland. I mean, I couldn't tell her the truth, could I? So, I said that I was fine and that I wanted to stay with dad."

"I take it she didn't take the news too well?" Q checked.

"No," Alison replied. "she told me that I needed a stable influence on my life. She said that if I want to be supported financially by her then I would come home. I said that...well...I didn't want to come home for her money. She reminded me that the money went towards my partying at university. Apparently I don't want to give that up."

Q kept silent as Alison looked to the door of the room and thought about the argument she had just had with her mother.

"I told her that I studied hard. I told her that I was trying, but...well...maths is difficult. I find it so hard. She can't accept that. She has one opinion of me, and that's that. I told her that I was staying with dad. You know why, don't you?" Alison wondered from Q. "I mean...he's still out there...what if he goes after dad?"

"And what if he does?" Q replied. "You'd be safer with your mother in Manchester, Alison."

"And if he comes after me there? What happens if he finds my mum there? He'd have no trouble shooting her," Alison whispered. "No, I need to stay with dad until I go back to York. I can't tell my mum that. She wouldn't understand. If she knew what dad does then...well...she'd be worse than she is now."

"I think she only wants the best for you," Q assured Alison. "You'll sort this out with her. You have to."

"Carl told her that they shouldn't have bothered coming from the Lake District to see me," Alison replied. "Apparently I'm nothing but a waste of time in his view. I'm inconsiderate, selfish, reckless-"

"-No, you're not," interrupted Q as he looked at her again. "I don't think you're any of those things."

"You met me less than a week ago," sniffed Alison. "You don't know me."

"I know that you're kind," Q informed her. "I know that you're witty and funny. I know that you hate paintings. I know that you can eat more pizza than I can. I know that you're incredibly loyal to your father. You're possibly one who drinks too much, but...well...from my experience, there are a lot of other students who do that. But selfish?" Q replied. "I don't see any sign of that."

It was then when Alison finally broke down in front of him. The tears fell down her cheeks as she wondered what more was to happen. Q, never one for understanding how to comfort someone, moved from his chair and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He forgot about how she felt like smoke as he allowed her to rest her head against his shoulder and sob. She sniffed against his brow cardigan as Q slowly moved his other hand and ran it down her greasy locks. She kept her arms limp by her side, not too sure how long she had been sat there before she heard the familiar buzz of her iPhone.

"I'll get that," Q said and pulled the device out from her iPhone. He handed her it as he resumed his previous place on the side of the bed. Alison allowed her arm to brush against his as she unlocked the iPhone and opened the message.

Q's eyes widened as he watched it from next to her. He looked outside before he looked back to the picture.

The phone bleeped another message after a moment and Alison read the words.

_This isn't over._

"He was here," Alison said, her voice shaking as Q took her phone from her and looked at the picture himself. It was her and him a few moments ago. Q was sat beside her, his lanky form holding her as she cried.

"Okay...okay..." Q said, too confused at the sight on the phone to think coherently for a moment.

He moved and rushed to the door, pulling it open to look down the corridor. He saw nothing in sight, no one watching him before he looked at the CCTV camera in the corner. He'd hack into that soon enough.

"There's nothing out here."

"But it was him?" Alison checked. "Who else could it have been?"

"I don't know," Q whispered, walking back to take a seat in the chair. He moved his hand out to rest on Alison's wrist, trying to be comforting. "We'll wait for Bond to come back. I'm not leaving you here."

"What if he's with him?" Alison worried and Q checked the clock.

"I'll have a nurse search for him if he's not back in a minute," Q told her and both of them looked to the window, their gazes wide. Q only moved his eyes back down as he felt Alison move her fingers into his, her eyes still locked on the window.

Q gave her hand a small squeeze before watching the window, knowing that he'd drop her hand before Bond came in.

...

A/N: Thank you to gillyhelbee and Fingirl for reviewing the previous chapter. I do hope you're all still enjoying the story and there is more to come soon!


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you mean she left?"

Alison's concern about Silva had faded once she heard what her father had told her about her mother. Apparently she and Carl had gone to book themselves into a hotel for the evening. They were tired and needed to rest. They hadn't even said goodbye to Alison.

"I'm more concerned with why Silva was here," Bond responded to his daughter.

He was pacing by the end of the bed whilst Q played on Alison's iPhone; considering it was the only source of technology he had to get in touch with Q Division. He was stood still and hidden in the corner, doing his best to make sure no nurse walking by saw him.

"Clearly he's trying to finish off the job, dad," Alison drawled, doing her best to turn his attention back to her mother. "Why has she left, dad? Did she not say anything about me?"

"If I told you what she said then you'd be as angry as I was," Bond assured Alison, turning his blue eyes to look at his daughter. Her orbs widened at that piece of information and she wondered what she could have done that was so bad.

"What did she say?" Alison asked. "I don't need protecting, dad. I'm twenty years old. I can make my own decisions."

"It wasn't what she said as much as what Carl said," Bond sneered. "He doesn't like you too much, Alison, let us put it like that. Your mother did nothing to defend you."

"I...I only told her that this entire thing was an accident..." Alison whispered back, the thought of falling out with her mother making her stomach churn. She didn't want that. She didn't _need _that. "I told her that I would be fine to go back to London with you. That's when Carl said that I was as reckless as you. Mum said that I needed to grow up and see that I had to do the sensible thing. I don't know what her problem is with me. All I want is to go with you...besides...it'll be safer that way."

"Your mother always has been difficult to please," James commented. "Try not to worry about her and her psycho tendencies."

"And now she's gone?" Alison said. "She didn't say goodbye. I don't know what I did, dad."

"You did nothing," Bond promised his daughter, moving to sit next to her on the bed. He kept an arm around her waist before he picked her hand up. "Your mother has always been over the top. She'll calm down soon enough and come round. I promise you."

"Will she?" Alison checked. "She still thinks I'm a little child."

Smiling, Bond pushed her hair behind her ear as he kissed the side of her head. "She's not the only one, Ali."

"Aha!" Q suddenly called out, jumping up and clenching his hand into a fist. "We've got him. He's on the M1. He was here. I had Billy check the CCTV and he was disguised as a policeman. He seems to like that one."

"No questions asked for that disguise," James commented. "Have you sent someone after him?"

"Someone," Q said, a confident brow arched. "I've practically sent the entirety of the MI6 after him."

"Good," James said. "I spoke to a nurse and Alison can be discharged tomorrow. I want him held in custody until I get there."

"And, may I ask, what you're going to do to him?" Q wondered, knowing full well that Bond's anger could radiate. Q had almost felt the full force of it before. He didn't want to again.

"Kill him," James simply replied. "I promised I would."

"Surely a life in jail is much more satisfying?" Alison wondered from her father.

"Believe me," drawled Bond, "death will be satisfying."

...

Q sat in the passenger seat of Bond's car, reclined in the seat of the loaned Mercedes. They were driving back to London the following morning, Alison was in the backseat with her father's jacket draped around her ruined summer dress. She had no other clothes to change into, and Bond wouldn't leave her to buy some.

"They lost Silva in the middle of the night," Q told Bond as they drove. He kept his voice low, turning around to make sure he hadn't woken Alison from her sleep. He could see the white bandage which sat on her leg and he could only imagine the dead skin underneath it.

"How did they lose him?" Bond replied, staying in the third lane of the motorway. "How is that possible?"

"He's as clever as they are. He knows this game. If he wants to be invisible then he can be," Q promised Bond. "Like I said, technology is far cleverer than a gun."

"At the end of the day it will be a gun that kills Silva," Bond said.

"Is that your preferred way to kill him?" Q checked with Bond. "You know that you can only kill him if he does something wrong, don't you? If you apprehend him then you can't."

"Then I won't apprehend him," Bond replied as Alison snorted in her sleep.

Q looked back at her as he watched her pull her father's jacket up to her chin and adjust her position on the leather seat in the back.

"You'll do as you please," Q sighed and shifted in the seat, feeling numb after sitting down for so long. He kept quiet as Bond looked to the side and eyed him with suspicion. He said nothing, deciding to keep quiet as he felt Bond watching him.

"Do I sense some attitude there, Q?" Bond wondered. "You're showing your stroppy teenager side."

Q let out a humph and shook his head. "I just don't think Alison would want you to kill him when he could suffer behind bars. I don't think she feels comfortable with knowing that you kill people."

"It is my job," Bond replied. "Alison knows that. Since when did you know what my daughter thinks?"

"I don't," Q promised Bond. "I was just saying, Bond. I meant nothing by it at all."

Bond said nothing further, choosing to change the topic of conversation.

"I can't leave her at my apartment," Bond informed Q. "I need to go in to see the new M. I don't feel comfortable taking Alison with me if Silva is watching."

"Then where do you intend to leave her?" Q asked; his brows furrowed together as Bond looked at him, a condescending glance on his face. "At my apartment?"

"I assume it is safe, Q," Bond said. "I think it is one the safest places, to be honest. He doesn't know where you live, and he wouldn't suspect that she would be with you. He doesn't think that I'd leave her alone now."

"I suppose," Q said. "I mean, I don't mind having her there whilst you go and see M. I can work from home."

"Excellent," Bond mumbled and sank back in his seat, focusing on driving for the rest of the journey.

...

"I can walk," Alison promised her father. "I just have no nerves in my legs."

"I'd prefer to carry you," Bond assured his daughter as he stood by the back door to the car. Q had already rushed off, keys in hand as he did his best to make sure the flat was clean. Bond was constantly looking around as Alison stuffed her hands into her father's sleeves. She held her arms out and Bond gently pulled her into his arms.

"I wish that I'd have been there when you were little and it was deemed necessary to carry you," he whispered to his daughter. She smiled sadly as she kept her arms around his neck and he moved her towards the building.

"Mother said that it would be for the best not to know my dad." Alison informed Bond. "I never believed her. I nagged her until she gave in."

"It's a good job you got your nagging attitude from her," smirked Bond.

He noted how her face sunk as they spoke of her mother. He did his best to look at her with a promising gaze.

"She'll talk to you again," James said. "You know that leaving without telling her was the right thing to do. She couldn't be a part of this, Ali."

"She's phoned me ten times during the ride down here. She must think that I'm mad at her."

"Aren't you?" James wondered.

"No," Alison replied. "I can't stand to argue with mum. I...I just don't want to talk to her for a while, dad."

"Understandable," James promised as he began the hike up the stairs. He looked to apartment twenty one as Q unlocked the door and pushed it open. He stood in the room, looking around for a few moments before he beckoned for Alison and James to come in.

Alison looked around the room, not surprised that it was impeccably clean.

"Just make yourself at home," Q called out to them as he entered his bedroom.

Alison settled down into his leather sofa and noticed the large TV on the wall before she looked into the kitchen. The entire flat was open planned with the latest gadgets. She didn't think it looked like home though. She couldn't see any homely touches.

Q moved out of his bedroom with his laptop under his arm. He set it down on the worktop in the kitchen, opening the lid whilst James bent down to talk to Alison.

"I'll be back soon," he promised her. "You need to stay here and don't move. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Alison said, humouring her father and his overbearing behaviour. "I get it, dad. You don't need to worry."

"You'll find that I will," Bond promised her. He kissed her on the top of her head and ruffled her hair before looking at Q.

"Do you have a gun?" Bond wondered and Q gulped, shaking his head before he saw James pull one from his waistband, resting it next to Q's laptop. "Shoot if you hear anything."

"Yes...well...unless it's the old woman from next door. She tends to forget she has a cat and it goes missing. I don't want to kill her off with a heart attack," he commented, his voice unsteady along with his breathing.

Smirking, James left him alone and Q logged into his laptop.

"Hey, Q," Alison said once she knew her father had gone. "I don't want to be rude, but-"

"-But you want to use my shower," Q interrupted, typing at inhuman speed.

Smirking, Alison nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all," Q promised. "Do you need help?"

"I can hobble," she promised him and Q left his laptop, flicking the switch to the kettle as he went. He stood by the sofa and helped Alison to stand, his hands on her waist and steadying her. She turned in his hold, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as he helped her to the bathroom.

"Just...sit..." Q said, pushing the toilet seat down and watching her collapse against it. He pulled his shampoo and conditioner from the glass mirror cupboard. He took hold of his body wash, knowing that it was for men, but he doubted she cared.

"I'll just start it," Q told her, stepping inside the glass cubicle and turning the hot water on. "I trust you'll be able to manage alone?"

"I think I'll be grand, thanks," Alison said and he stood tall as his eyes caught her pulling at the zip to her dress. He took that as his cue to leave. Turning on his heel, he closed the door and left her alone in the bathroom.

Shaking his head, he pushed away any thoughts of her bare skin as he made himself a cup of early grey and logged into the MI6 database. He sipped on the tea and continued working, keeping quiet until he heard Alison call his name.

He looked up and stopped typing, taking another sip of earl grey before moving to the bathroom.

"What is it?" he wondered back to her.

"Can you pass me my bandages, Q? They're in my satchel." Alison wondered and Q nodded, setting about finding the ointment and her bandages.

He opened the door to the bathroom, the steam hitting him as soon as he stepped inside. He felt his glasses steam up before he saw Alison sat on the closed toilet seat, a white towel around her body. He awkwardly looked away as she bent over and began to try and pull the bandage off.

"Keep still," Q urged her, deciding to kneel on the tiled floor and help her. She kept her hands on the top of her bandage, watching as Q's steady hands took over the job she had been attempting. She looked down and sadly smiled.

"Thanks," she whispered and Q nodded, well aware of the fact that he had a naked girl in his bathroom.

_What would your mother say? _Q thought to himself before shaking his head and seeing her marred skin. He pulled back as Alison looked at it and shook her head, knowing full well that it was an ugly sight.

"I know," she whispered to him. "It's disgusting."

"No," Q contradicted her, his head shaking back and forth as he did so. "It isn't as bad as you think."

"I have no feeling," she said, running her fingers along her thigh. "I mean...I..."

"It's okay," Q promised her; grabbing the ointment she'd been prescribed. "It could have been worse. You need to remember that."

"Worse things happen in the world, yet here I am crying over this. I'm pathetic."

"You're emotional," Q replied, pushing his glasses up before he dared to squeeze the cream onto her leg. She said nothing, not noticing he had done it as she stared at the frosted glass of the shower.

"Q," she replied when she saw him. "You don't have to do that."

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Q said. He took a moment to glance back up at her and she pushed her dripping hair over one shoulder. His hands were soft on her skin, slowly caressing the ointment as Alison bit down on her bottom lip. She watched him as he gulped and set about bandaging her leg up, winding the white cloth around her leg with precision.

"You can wear one of my shirts," he finally spoke as he stood up and offered her his hand. "I doubt you'll want to wear that disgusting dress."

"It was one of my favourites," she complained to Q. "And it wasn't cheap."

"Didn't your dad promise you a shopping trip?" Q wondered as Alison stood quickly. She almost lost her footing, hitting her head against the shower screen as Q managed to keep her on her feet.

"Ow," she complained, her hand holding her forehead. "Bugger it."

"Are you okay?" Q wondered; his hands on her upper arms as she nodded at him, slowly looking to his orbs. He smiled as she smiled back at him, one of her hands nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I guess babysitting me becomes more difficult with each passing day," Alison whispered to him.

His lips tugged upwards again and he felt his glasses grow warm against his skin. "You are certainly keeping me occupied, what with running away from killers, running up to Scotland to find you, and now you're in my apartment."

"In all fairness, I didn't tell you to come to Scotland," Alison replied, making no effort to move from the position she was in.

"No," Q agreed, "but where would you be without me?"

"Six foot under," Alison scoffed. "We both know it's true."

"Yes, well, you did say that you'd buy me a drink because of that," Q reminded her and he saw that she had trained her eyes onto his lips. Q gulped again, knowing full well what she was thinking. He couldn't help but think the same thing.

Dear God, if Bond knocked on his door at that moment in time then he was in trouble.

"Only if you choose to tell me your name."

"Like I said," Q spoke, "I prefer some mystery. I thought most people enjoyed some mystery?"

"I prefer the simple things in life nowadays," Alison whispered to him.

"Like cereal, or tea...or perhaps Emmerdale?"

"You watch Emmerdale?" Alison wondered, pulling back a second as she saw a small blush form on Q's cheeks. He looked away in an awkward manner.

"Occasionally," he said. "Only when there is a good plot to it."

"You really are a man of mystery," Alison mumbled before she finally acted.

She hesitantly placed her lips against Q's, wondering what he would do after a moment of stiffness. He chose not to move, too in shock to contemplate such an action. Finally, he realised what was happening as he pulled her closer to him, his hand curving around the back of her head.

He felt her lips move against his as he realised he should be working. Alison moved her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the back of his head. Q kept his fingers tickling against her neck before he realised what had happened.

Alison felt a sudden cold breeze around her body as she peeled her eyes open to look down. She jumped back from Q, their lips parting as the quartermaster finally allowed his gaze to look down. This time the blush that formed stayed there for a moment. Q closed his eyes and turned on his heel, storming out of the room as Alison warmed up. She bent down to pick the fallen towel up, pulling it around her body again as Q rushed out.

"I'll get you that shirt," Q called out as he closed the door.

"Yep...thanks..." Alison replied, settling back down on the closed toilet seat whilst Q walked into his bedroom.

He grabbed a dark blue shirt and closed the door, bowing his head so that it hit the top of his dresser. "Bond would kill you if he saw that...although...I do have his gun."

...

A/N: So, I have some bad news. This will be the last update until next Tuesday as I am going on holiday for five days! In the meantime, do review and I shall post again soon enough!


	11. Chapter 11

_Guideline Number One – Never allow your father to leave a gun lying about._

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Alison whispered as soon as she saw Q again. She had changed into one of his shirts and a pair of joggers. She looked a mess, but she felt better than she had done. She wore her flats on her feet, stopping the cold wooden floor from affecting her.

She stood by the breakfast bar in Q's kitchen, her gaze lowered as she waited for Q to say something in response to her. He looked at her from over the screen of his laptop and nodded briefly at her, coughing awkwardly. He didn't really know what to say to her.

"Which part?" he wondered after a second, his hands hovering over the safety of his keyboard.

"Well...I mean...I know that it was kind of forward-"

"-Yes," Q agreed, interrupting her. "Deciding to lose you towel was quite forward indeed."

Alison blushed and ran her hand down her arm before Q saw how uncomfortable she was. Taking a deep breath, he flicked the switch to the kettle. A good cup of tea would help to solve everything. It usually did when Q felt he was in trouble or out of his depth.

"You are a young woman, Alison," Q decided to say. "You're still at university. I don't really know what to think, if I have to be honest. You have all of your life ahead of you."

"And how old are you?" Alison wondered. "I saw spot cream in your cabinet."

"I'm old enough," Q mumbled to her. "Besides, what would your dad say if he knew? I doubt he'd be impressed with our antics."

"You don't have to be scared of him all the time," Alison said to him. "He's hardly a scary person, Q."

"I'm not scared of him," Q denied and Alison raised a sceptical brow at what she was hearing. Looking away, Q heard the kettle boil and he moved to pour the hot water into two cups.

"You're a terrible liar," Alison whispered to him and she took a seat on the stool by the breakfast bar. Q sat on the stool along from her as he continued his coding and Alison tapped her fingers against her mug.

"If you're not interested then just say," she suddenly snapped at Q, unable to hold her tongue for much longer.

Groaning quietly, Q lifted his head up to look at her as she cocked her head to the side, wondering what he was going to say back to her. Her orbs had doubled in size and Q knew that she was waiting for his reassurance. He just didn't know if he could give her it. She'd be back at university soon enough. She'd forget about him then and continue studying.

The only reason she kissed him was because he was there and had been kind to her. Q was sure of it. She was Bond's daughter, for goodness sakes. He had seen her Facebook page; she could get any man she wanted. It wouldn't be difficult for her.

"We've known each other a week," Q reminded her. "How can I begin to judge whether I am interested or not? I mean...you're a nice girl, Alison. I just worry about what will happen in the future. I work in London. You study in York. You're young, too. There are plenty of other men out there. Most of them-"

"-Are idiots," Alison commented. "No, it's fine. I understand what you mean."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Alison said. "I just...you're really nice, Q. You even like Emmerdale."

"Not all the time," Q interrupted her, going back to typing as he spoke. "We need to get through this first, Alison. Only then can you really decide what you'll do. Keeping you alive is the main priority."

"Got it," Alison bluntly nodded, sipping on her tea. "And I'd be totally fine if that kiss meant nothing to you. You know that, right?"

"It didn't," Q assured her. "Not many girls have kissed me, Alison. That one meant more than any of the others."

Keeping quiet, she smiled into her tea and Q gave her a sly look from the corner of his eye. He could feel his cheeks heat up at his own words, but he continued to watch his screen. He could tell that Alison was nervous. She sat on the edge of her seat and constantly looked to the door, waiting for her dad to knock.

Finally, she noticed the gun which sat on the end of the worktop. Her mouth gaped open and Q watched her stretch from her seat to grab it. She took it into her hands and looked down at the device, knowing full well that it was pretty dangerous.

"Be careful with that," he told her. "Your dad left it for me in case there was an emergency."

Alison observed it, turning it around in her hands whilst Q sighed.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Alison checked, holding it out and pointing it in front of her. "I mean, with one pull of a trigger, it can kill something."

Q watched with horror as she let her hand slip to the trigger and pushed against it, a bullet flying out of the end of the gun. Alison dropped the device as soon as she saw the bullet hit the wall opposite them. She pressed her hands to her mouth and Q fiddled with the glasses on his face.

"Oh my God," she drawled. "Q, I am so sorry."

"I think Bond left it off the safety mode," Q commented to her. "You certainly took advantage of that."

"I honestly didn't think anything would happen...oh Jesus..." she said, doing her best not to sound amused by the situation. At least she didn't hit his laptop. She could only imagine that Q would throw her out then.

"Well, you were right before," Q told her, moving to look at the bullet hole in his wall. "You are becoming more difficult to babysit."

"Is it that bad?" Alison wondered.

"You shot my wall," Q reminded her and she stood next to him, looking at the bullet which had gone through the wall. "I'd say that is pretty bad."

"At least no one was hurt," Alison said, trying to look on the positive side of things.

"Apart from the wall," Q responded before he snorted. He smirked back and shook his head at her as she allowed a small smile to form on her lips. Q nudged her in the shoulder as he stood by her side. "I suppose it could have been worse, Alison. I'll have the bill sent to your student loan."

"Thank you very much," Alison responded and she scoffed before hearing a knock on the door.

Q turned around and moved over to it as Alison stood still and continued to stare at the bullet hole. She whirled around as soon as she heard her father's snapping voice enter the room.

"Alison, we're leaving now."

"Why?" she wondered as Q closed the door and locked it again.

James looked around the room, his paranoia taking hold of him as he stood before his daughter and ran his hand down the length of her drying hair. He bent down slightly and looked her in the eye, knowing full well that he had endangered her.

"Someone broke into your flat in York," he told her. "They tossed over all your things and made an absolute mess."

"Do you think it was him?" she enquired before James handed her a plastic bag full of clothes he had bought on his way.

"I'm pretty sure it was," James promised her. "Go and change. We're heading up to Aberdeen for a while."

"Why Aberdeen?" Alison wondered; her voice low as she felt Q's gaze lock on her.

"There's a small hotel by the sea there." James told her. "I've stayed there for a while. It's very remote-"

"-There are lots of remote places by the sea," Alison protested. "Aberdeen isn't the only place by the sea."

"No, but it is far away from London. That is my aim, Alison. I'm taking you as far away from London as I can for the moment. M is still searching for Silva. He says that there has been no sign of him."

"Ridiculous," Alison muttered before taking the bag and searching through it. "And how did you know that I was a size ten?"

"Women's sizes aren't difficult to understand, Ali," James assured her before she moved off. He kept quiet as he saw her close the bathroom door and then he noted the bullet hole in the wall.

His brow arched with amusement; "Fancied pulling the trigger, Q?"

"No," Q replied. "Your daughter decided to shoot my wall."

"And how did she manage that?"

"Well, she used a gun," Q said, his voice dry before he looked at his laptop. He took a moment to think about what he and Alison had done before and his cheeks reddened. "She could have a good shot if she tried."

"I don't want her anywhere near guns," James replied, his voice low before he ran a hand down his stubbly cheek. He pulled at his tie before he turned to look at Q, noticing a small blush on his cheeks.

"Well, she might have no choice," Q responded. "So, what are you going to do? Hide in a hotel until this blows over? Do you not think that he will find you there?"

"I know that he might," James said. "But staying in the city won't help. He knows more about me and Alison than I care to admit. I just want to know why he's doing it. He killed M. Surely that's enough?"

"Not for a man like Silva," Q said, sipping his earl grey tea and pushing the gun to the end of the breakfast bar. "He knows that he's got MI6 in a tizzy. What better way to distract them by keeping their best agent occupied with hiding his daughter away?"

"I'm not the best agent," James replied to Q.

"One of," Q mumbled. "What does it matter? He's met you. He knows that he can torment you."

"He does it well," James muttered. "M said that you're needed back at Q Division."

"Right," Q said, pushing the lid to his laptop down. "Well, I will see you off and then get on my way."

James said nothing and picked up the gun from the breakfast bar. He slid it into his waistband and waited for his daughter to reappear. She did so in a moment, pulling at the black skater skirt she wore. The tights clung to her body and were dark enough to help hide the white bandage around her leg. She wore a simple white vest top tucked into the skirt and had a blazer draped over her arm.

"I think I might be putting weight on," Alison complained as she hobbled over to her father.

"You look fine," he promised her. "Come on, we're on the six o'clock train from King's Cross."

"Got it," she nodded back to her father and he picked her satchel up for her.

Q shoved his arms into his anorak and found his keys again. He left his laptop on the worktop and followed Alison out of the door, locking up as he went. James had already rushed ahead, moving with haste and away from them.

"Are you going to be alright?" Q dared to ask as he walked by her side and James scoped the area.

"In Aberdeen?" Alison whispered back, slowly moving down the steps with one hand on the railing to help her. "I'll be fine. It's him I worry about."

Q's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked down the steps to Bond and stuffed his hands into his pocket. He looked down to the floor, his glasses slipping down the end of his nose as he did so.

"Bond?" he checked. "Why are you worried about him?"

"He's under far too much pressure," Alison whispered, one hand pushing her hair behind her ear. "He's going to go crazy soon enough."

"It seems that everyone is full of worry," Q informed her. "Exactly what Silva wants."

"Alison, can you manage?" James checked as he threw his head over his shoulder to look at his daughter. She nodded and finally came to the bottom step. James took her hand into his, holding it tightly before coming to the street.

"I'll take a little walk before getting a cab," Q informed the pair of them.

"You'll be keeping tabs?" James wondered, finally hailing a cab.

"Of course," Q said, his gaze moving over to Alison as he said it.

Alison didn't want to say anything in the presence of her father. She knew that he would hardly approve of her thoughts at that moment in time. Q also knew that James would shoot more than his wall if he said anything out of place.

"Come on, Ali," James urged her, opening the back door to the cab.

She took another second to glance at Q, smiling softly as she did so.

"Bye, Q," she spoke.

"Bye, Alison," he replied and the girl moved into the vehicle.

James smirked, his hands his pockets before he dropped her satchel into the cab.

"Make sure you lose the blush, Q," James advised him. "It doesn't become you."

...

"Must you flirt with every woman you see?" Alison wondered from her father.

She sat by the window in Coach C of the train, looking outside as the sun slowly set behind the clouds in the sky. Her father rested the coffee he had bought on the pull down table in front of him. He opened a sachet of sugar and poured it in, a small smirk on his face as he did so.

"It was harmless, Alison. I could hardly help it if she found me attractive."

"Jesus," Alison mumbled, folding her arms around her waist.

"Besides, I could ask you the same about when you're in the presence of Q." James retorted and Alison almost choked. James turned his head to the side to look at her. She looked down to her lap and fiddled with her fingers.

"He's hardly your regular type."

"And you'd know my regular type?" Alison wondered back from her father.

"Yes," James said, "and they're definitely not like Q."

"And is that a bad thing?" Alison wondered, her voice low. "Look, I've just met Q. I don't know how he...how I..."

"He's attracted to you," James assured her. "He can't deny that."

"Anyway, I'd prefer not to talk about it," Alison mumbled to her father, leaning her head against the window whilst James watched her close her eyes.

He sighed and moved his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back to his side. Alison rested against his shoulder before he spoke to her.

"You're still in university," he whispered. "I want you to do well, Alison."

"Dad," she complained. "I've only just met Q. Can you stop this, please?"

"Fine," James told her, backing off from the conversation he had intended to have with his daughter. He had another six and a half hours on the train left. He'd approach it another time with her.

Alison said nothing more to him as she closed her eyes and willed for sleep to find her. James finally heard her breathing shallow as he tightened his arm around her shoulders and closed his own eyes for another few moments.

...

Q wandered back home later on that evening, yawning loudly as he went. He fastened the zip to his anorak and ran a hand through his messy brown curls. He took a few moments to think about where Alison was, shaking his head after he did so. There was a strange feeling inside of Q's stomach as he thought about her and the way she had pressed her lips to his earlier that day.

He poured himself a cup of earl grey before he sat back at his laptop, doing his best to find Silva. He was slowly tracking Alison on the train, watching the movement before he sipped on his earl grey.

Q kept quiet as he noticed that the train hadn't moved in five minutes. Q's brow furrowed and he went back to looking at the CCTV. Everything seemed fine at the station they had pulled in to. Apparently there was some technical fault on the line ahead.

Technical faults happened all the time. They were hardly a thing of mystery. Yet Q couldn't help but think that there was something more to it.

He moved the CCTV further along the line, looking for the fault before he saw a team of workmen on the lines. Q zoomed in, scanning each face he saw before his computer informed him that every man on the track worked for the rail company. He leaned back in his seat and sipped on his tea before looking over his laptop to the bullet hole in the wall.

A small smile played on his lips as he wondered what the landlord would say. His orbs turned back to the screen and he frowned before he paused the CCTV as he saw the familiar sight of bleach blond hair.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself. "Bugger it."

Q zoomed in, watching as the blond hair bent down by the track and Q caught the sight of something flashing near the man's hand. He said nothing for a few seconds, wondering what Silva was playing at before he saw him turn his attention to the CCTV.

It was at that moment in time when Q felt worry flood through him. Silva seemingly bowed to the camera before rushing off from the screen.

Q felt a gulp move down his throat before he dared to move and reach for his new mobile phone.

He didn't know what Silva had done, but he knew that he had to get Bond and Alison off of that train.

...

A/N: So I am back off of holiday and I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed the story so far. I do hope you will let me know what you think so far!


	12. Chapter 12

_Guideline Number Two – Become used to your father's nemesis attempting to kill you_

"So, we wouldn't be safer at MI6?" Alison checked with her father as they sat in the stationary train. Alison had her legs curled up on the seat as she continued to lean against her father. James couldn't help but sigh as he heard her.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you," James mumbled to her. "I have Q tracking us. He'll be making sure we're safe. Also, there are already a few agents in Aberdeen."

Alison's brow furrowed as she thought for a few moments. She closed the magazine her father had bought her and looked up to him, her orbs wide as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"So, this is an ambush?" she checked with him and he nodded.

"Consider it an ambush," he said. "M has me sworn to secrecy about the matter."

"I'm your daughter," she reminded him as he took another sip of coffee. She sat up straight and crossed one leg over the other, shrugging ruefully as she watched him. "Don't I have a right to know this?"

"I didn't want to worry you, Ali," James replied, his voice low and controlled.

People became concerned over the lack of movement; everyone seemingly growing irritated by nothing happening. Alison shook her head and closed her eyes, her hand resting on her forehead.

"Unbelievable," she mumbled to herself.

James said nothing, choosing to keep quiet as he watched her open her eyes again and turn to look at him, her orbs wide and full of pleading. James had expected anger. It was an emotion that she did well.

"You need to stop keeping things from me," Alison urged him. "I'm twenty years old, dad. I mean, I do wear a bra now. I'm not a little child."

James ran a hand down the back of his neck, a slight tinge of embarrassment coming over him as he heard his daughter speak. She looked at him as she pulled at her blazer, straightening it out on her body.

"Can you agree with me on that?" she checked. "I get that you didn't want to worry me. I don't want to be worried, trust me on that front. But...if I have to be worried then that's fine. It is better than you keeping things from me."

"I get it," James assured her, not too sure how much of a lecture he could stomach from her. She nodded at him and settled back in her seat, pushing her hands through her hair before she heard a familiar sound coming from her satchel.

"It's probably your mother," James told her.

"I hope so," she mumbled, grabbing the iPhone and looking at the caller. She didn't recognise the number and it came up as unknown. She looked to her father, holding the phone out to him and he nodded.

"Unknown number," he commented. "Your phone is the only phone we have."

"Where's your phone?" Alison wondered, still looking at the caller's screen.

"Destroyed," James said. "I went off grid. The only person who could be calling you is Q."

"Or him," Alison commented too.

"Or Silva," James confirmed. "You won't know until you find out."

Alison sighed as she felt the train jerk forwards. She looked out the window as she slid the unlock button on her phone and accepted the call. She pressed the phone to her ear and watched as they left the platform behind.

"Alison, thank goodness."

Alison felt relieved as she heard Q's voice drift into her ears. She reclined further back in the seat and played with the hem of her skirt.

"What's up?" she wondered from him, mouthing Q to her father.

James nodded and ran a hand down his chin, wondering what the boy wonder could want from his daughter now. Q was becoming far too involved in Alison's life for James's liking.

"You need to get off of that train now," Q told her, pacing around Q Division as he did so. Alison's brow furrowed as she looked to her father and James knew that something was wrong. He moved with haste, grabbing the phone from her hands and pressing it to his ear.

"What is it, Q?" James asked him.

"Silva's placed some form of bomb on the line ahead. That's why the train has been delayed. You need to get off right now."

"How much time do we have?"

"Four minutes," Q said, "and counting."

James stood with haste, pushing his coffee cup into the bin by the seat opposite him. He folded his tray away and offered Alison his hand, capturing the phone between his shoulder and ear. He had to stop the train somehow. He just didn't know how.

"What is it?" Alison wondered.

"Just come with me," James urged her.

She grabbed hold of her satchel and moved it onto her shoulder. Taking her father's hand, she hobbled behind him as they moved further down the train.

"The driver needs to be notified, Q. Is there anything you can do?"

"He's done something to the controls, Bond. The train is stuck at sixty seven miles per hour," Q complained, doing his best to breach Silva's control. He shook his head, realising that it was no use. "You need to get off the train, Bond. It is the only way."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" James snarled back, his hand still tightly holding Alison's as he dragged her along behind him, doing his best not to bump into anyone. "Is there any water coming up?"

"A small canal. It's not a big window, Bond. You need to move now."

"On it." James said and tossed Alison's phone into his pocket, Q still on the line.

He finally came to the driver's carriage of the train and banged on the door. People turned around in their seats; wondering what was happening as James sighed and knew what he had to do.

"Dad," Alison muttered. "What are you doing?"

"Improvising," replied James, dragging his gun out from the waistband of his trousers. People screamed and ducked as the shot echoed through their ears. Alison turned to look behind her at the panic as James pulled the door open and looked out of the window. The man sat in the back of the train looked confused as James pushed him from his seat.

"What's going on?" he snapped at Bond. "Who are you?"

"You need to stop this train. Can you do that?"

"Of course I can stop the train," the man snarled back to James. "Why would I? Are you a terrorist?"

"Do I look like a terrorist?" James wondered from him, firing another shot out the window and into the distance to make the man do his bidding. "Now, stop the train."

The man began to sweat, pulling at his tie as he tried to slow the train down. He repeated the motion a few times to no prevail. Alison looked to her father, still wondering what was happening.

James shook his head as the driver turned back to look at him. "What's happening?"

"It has been hijacked," James said. "You need to open the doors and tell people to jump in the passing canal."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because a bomb is about one minute away from us." James snapped back and broke the lock on the door to the driver's cabin. The wind rushed in as the man looked at James with wide eyes and he knew that there was no joking in James's voice.

"You're serious?"

"It's hardly a joking matter," James snapped back.

"Jesus Christ," Alison called out, looking to the passing water by the side of the train tracks. She looked down as James took hold of her by the arm, knowing full well that he couldn't save a train load of people. He had no chance of being able to do that.

He had told the driver what needed to happen. His main concern was getting Alison off alive.

"We have to jump," James told her, his voice loud above the roaring of the wind. Alison gulped, shaking her head back and forth as he abandoned her satchel on the floor. She looked up to her father, doing her best not to look so scared.

"It's okay," James promised her. "Just take a big jump and you'll be in the water. Kick and push to the surface."

"You do this often?" she wondered from her father.

"Often enough," he told her. "In comparison to a waterfall, this is nothing, Ali. You need to trust me. Everything will be fine."

"Bloody hell," Alison complained, holding onto the handle which led onto the small step outside of the train.

"You need to do it now, Alison," James urged his daughter. "You'll be safe. You have my word."

"Oh God," Alison complained to him. "This is not normal...I can't...I can't do it..."

James felt a second of guilt flood through him before he moved. He picked his daughter up by the waist and pushed her forwards, watching as she fell into the water. She went with a loud scream before the driver looked at him with a sense of bewilderment.

"Get as many people into that water as you can," James demanded him, turning to look back down the carriage.

A moment of guilt filled him as he realised that he should be there to help them. He should stay back. But he knew it would do no good. There wasn't enough time, or enough doors. Silva wanted him dead, but Bond wasn't very happy to oblige yet.

...

Q heard a loud scream from the phone. He assumed Bond had dropped it into his pocket and left Q on the line. Q was happy enough to stay there, unable to work as he heard Alison question her father as to what was happening. He soon heard her scream and then a splash of water. The line finished soon enough and Q had the police on their way to the sight.

He knew that the train couldn't be stopped. He had done his best. But his best wasn't good enough. It never had been good enough when it came to Silva. Q always felt as though he was one step behind. The only issue he faced was that he didn't know how to get one step ahead.

It was a never ending battle.

"Q."

Q turned around to see Boris stood at the back of the room. He dropped his hands to his hips and arched a brow, not intending on leaving his desk for anyone; especially not a dunderhead like Boris. Q had no time for him. He had no regard for him either.

"What is it?" Q wondered, noting how sweat was slowly forming on Boris's brow.

"M wants you," Boris said.

Q groaned, knowing that he was in trouble for not stopping the train. He only hoped that his telling off didn't last too long. He pulled at the blue tie he wore and straightened out his blue cardigan. He moved slowly towards the back of Q Division, seeing the way Boris's shirt dripped in sweat as he went.

"Are you okay, Boris?" Q wondered out of common courtesy. "You're looking warm."

"I'm fine, boss," he promised Q, following the man towards the dark corridor.

It was only then when Q saw a hulking figure blocking his way. Q turned back to look at Boris, his eyes narrowed through his NHS prescription glasses.

"What is this?"

"He...he said he'd kill my wife...hurt her..." Boris said, the sweat now visibly pouring from his brow. Q shook his head, realising that he had been sold out by one of his own workers. Q tried to push past Boris to return to Q Division, needing the safety of his laptop to stop anything from happening to him.

He didn't get far. He began to walk away only to feel his head lighten and his eyes close.

...

"They all died." Alison whispered as she sat in the hotel room.

She was curled up on the floor in between the space of the two beds. Her back was leant against the bed and she had her arms hooked around her kneecaps. She hadn't even bothered to change from her sopping wet clothes.

James sat on the bed across from her, a towel hung around his neck as he wore a simple white robe after showering. He was leant forwards as he watched Alison, her eyes narrowed as she thought back to what she had just seen.

"All of them...gone..."

"There was nothing that we could do," James told her. "Silva had it all planned, Alison."

"We could have been on a different train," Alison said. "We could have been somewhere else. They were all going home...visiting someone...and then...they died...because we were on that train."

"Do not blame yourself for this," James urged her. "It was Silva who put that bomb there-"

"-For us," Alison interrupted, unable to shake the sound of screams from her mind. The images of the fires rose in the sight of her vision and her orbs widened as she began to rock back and forth.

"It was meant for us," Alison whispered. "They all died because of us, dad."

"No," James said, knowing that he had to stop his daughter from playing the blame game. It wouldn't help her, and it wouldn't help anyone. "Alison, listen to me."

James dropped down from the bed, kneeling in front of her as he took her cheeks into his palms. His eyes were stern and his jaw jutted out. He didn't need his daughter blaming herself for this mess. He knew that it would driver her to insanity. Hell, everything was driving him to insanity.

"You are not to blame for this. Silva killed those people. He was the one who killed them." James promised her. "This is not your fault, Alison. Things like this...if it wasn't the train then it would have been something else. He's a mad man. He's not right in the head."

"That still doesn't stop me from feeling terrible" Alison assured her father. "I just want this to end. I want to go back to my flat in York and forget everything that has happened. That's all I want...and..."

"That will happen soon enough," James assured her. "I promise you."

"I'm going to shower," Alison whispered and she stood up, moving away from her father.

James sighed as he watched her go. He knew full well that she was breaking in front of him. And he couldn't blame her.

...

Q woke up in a groggy state. He could feel his glasses pinching the bridge of his nose as he dared to allow his eyes to flutter open. Looking around the room, he took a few moments to take in his surroundings. He found nothing that defined where he was. The walls were white washed and the concrete floor held no secret entrance.

"Finally, I thought that you'd been seriously injured."

Q moved his eyes to look at the man stood on the other side of the room. Q did his best to move, finding himself stuck to his chair by some rope. His glasses fell down his nose slightly as he struggled. He didn't need this. How could this have happened to him? All he did was sit at his desk all day. All he did was hack and write codes.

"Where am I?"

"Do you honestly think I intend to tell you that?" he replied, pushing his blond hair from his face.

Q watched as Silva moved closer to him and he gulped loudly, doing his best not to sound too worried about his situation.

"I doubt it," Q muttered. "It would be nice though."

"Wouldn't it," Silva agreed weakly. "You have no need to worry. I don't intend to kill you. I just intend to keep you here until I find Bond and his daughter again."

"Why do you need Bond?" Q wondered. "You got to M. Is that not enough?"

"I suspect not," Silva said, pretending to examine the back of his hand as he sniffed. "However, my cleverly laid plans seem to be going askew with thanks to you. You must really like that little daughter of his."

"I'm doing my job," Q exasperated. "I haven't done anything else."

"I'd care to disagree," Silva said, raising a finger to stop Q from interrupting. "You told them of the bomb. You kept Alison hidden at your apartment. You were the one who sent men after me when you knew where I was with M. You really have become a pain in my backside. It isn't attractive to me."

"So," Q drawled, knowing that he had to keep calm, "what is the plan now? Or is there even a plan?"

"There is a plan," Silva said. "Can you imagine the hype if 007 was to die? I struggle to believe it myself."

"Why do you want to kill him?" Q asked. "He did nothing to wrong you. M did. I understand that...but...Bond? He-"

"-He attempted to stab me in the back," Silva spoke. "Literally, I may add."

"I'm sure he was a bit annoyed with you," commented Q. "You did kidnap his daughter."

"No, I need to be rid of 007. Can you imagine if I get rid of him? Can you even begin to comprehend what M will think?" Silva wondered. "He'll see that no agent can beat me. If 007 can't then I doubt anyone else can. Would he even risk his agents on me then? I'd be able to defeat all of them."

"Do you think M will allow you to get away with this? He'll send as many men as possible to come after you," Q replied.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Silva replied with a small shrug. "We shall see soon enough, quartermaster."

"The working of your mind is not something that I comprehend," Q admitted. "But do you honestly think that Bond will let you anywhere him?"

"No," Silva said. "But he may not have a choice."

...

A/N: I hope that I'm not updating too quickly for people, so please do let me know what you think so far if you're reading this!


	13. Chapter 13

_Guideline Number Three – You should know that things are bad when the head of MI6 agrees with your opinion._

James watched on as his daughter dropped the phone to the bed and looked at her father. James's brow quirked and he slowly moved to stand next to her, wondering what had gotten to her. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he bent over and picked the phone back up. He pressed it to his ear but heard nothing but a dead line.

"He has Q," Alison whispered to her father. "Dad, he has Q."

James took another moment to place the phone back on the wall before he looked to his daughter. She had turned pale and her orbs had widened. James ran his hand down her back softly, realising that he had no other option but to go back to base.

"What are we going to do?" Alison asked her father. "We can't leave him. We need to help him."

"_We_ don't need to do anything," James replied to her, moving around the room and grabbing the items to his suit. Alison watched as her father moved and she dropped her hands to her hips and shook her head. She refused to let him go alone.

"I can't stay here and let you go," Alison protested. "You know that he wants you dead. It is you who he wants to kill."

"Do you think that he would have any issue killing you?" James wondered, slipping into the bathroom and shouting back to her. "I've seen him kill innocent bystanders, Alison. He'll do anything that he can to win this game."

"What game?" Alison snapped. She moved to stand by the bathroom door, yelling to her father as she did so. Her body visibly shook and she balled her hands into fists, wondering what could be happening to Q at that moment in time.

"There is no game, dad," Alison replied. "He killed M. He had his revenge...but...this? This is no game. This is Silva wanting you dead for some reason I cannot comprehend. I don't want to comprehend it."

James took a deep breath as he stood in the bathroom. He leant his forehead against the walls of the tiles, longing to do nothing more than run away and forget his problems. Perhaps he had enjoyed death more than he thought he had. He didn't know. He only knew that he longed for that solitude now.

"Q is innocent in all of this," Alison whispered. "Why would he want to hurt him?"

"Q is the reason why we're still alive," James admitted to his daughter, straightening his tie out. He moved to the side to unlock the door and pull it open. He remained stood in the bathroom, messing with his tie as Alison stood in the doorway.

"He thinks we'll act irrationally if he puts Q in danger," James replied. "Well, he thinks one of us would."

The look out of the corner of his eyes caused Alison to blush at what she was hearing from him. She folded her arms around herself and looked away from her father's gaze. What was the point in denying it? She was attracted to Q. She didn't know why, and she didn't know how long it would last, but she knew that she felt something for him.

"So what are you going to do?" Alison wondered, her voice a mere whisper in the air.

"We're going back to MI6," James said. "I'm going to speak with M and I'm going to leave you there. You'll be safe there."

"You said that last time," Alison reminded her father.

"I mean it this time. Mallory will see to it that you're kept somewhere safe."

Alison realised she had no option but to agree with what her father was telling her. She changed her clothes with haste, sliding into her skirt and top again before following her father from the room.

...

The journey back to MI6 went smoothly for the pair of them. There were no hiccups and they managed to find M's office without any question. Alison paced up and down, one hand holding her elbow as she allowed the tips of the other to be bit at. James stood calmly, his hands in his pockets as he wondered whether the quartermaster would make it out of the situation he found himself in.

"I trust you've heard."

Both of them turned around as soon as they heard a deep voice. Alison looked at the man they called Mallory, the new M, and she couldn't help but think how different he appeared in comparison to the other M.

"He called our hotel room," James clarified and followed M into the underground room. "When did he take him?"

"He took him a few hours ago," Mallory said, closing the door to his office.

James stood by his daughter as she looked around the room. She was clearly still on edge about everything that was happening. Not that James could blame her. He would be nervous if he hadn't been trained for situations like these.

"Boris had been threatened to lead him to the corridor. Silva managed to smuggle two lookalike agents in. They had their passes cleared and everything. He sent an email to us afterwards to describe the terms we need to meet to bring Q back."

"And what are they?" James wondered and Mallory turned to look at Alison, wondering how involved she was in all of this. It seemed that Bond had dragged her further into his mess than he had first thought.

"He says that he does not intend to hurt Q," Mallory spoke. "He wants to meet you tonight. He says that he has no intention to hurt you. He simply wants to talk to you about something. Something about how 'mummy' betrayed both of you. He says that there are to be no other agents involved; claims that he'll know if there are."

"Of course he will," James nodded. "Where does he want to meet?"

"A small cafe down the road. The decision is yours to make, Bond. We can send backup with you. It would probably be for the best if we did. He's dangerous. The more men you have then the better it will be."

"No," James shook his head at M.

"What?" Alison interrupted. "Dad, you need to think about this. If you go to him alone then what do you think will happen? Do you think he will let you walk out of that cafe?"

"Your daughter poses a good point." Mallory said. "There is no guarantee that he will bring Q with him to the meeting place. Hell, how do we know he is telling us the truth?"

"We don't," James said. "I've been an agent for many years now. I can handle myself."

"We've never come across someone like Silva," Mallory whispered lowly. "You know that, Bond."

"I know," James nodded. "I also know that I am indebted to Q for everything he has done; even if he is some spotty computer geek."

"But to going in without back up?" Alison checked; her brow arched as she pushed her hair behind one shoulder. She played with the strands at the end of it, slowly twirling some hair around her fingers as she did so. "Dad, that is just stupid. You shouldn't do that. You know that."

"I know that," James replied, "but Silva will know if there is back up. I doubt he would show. He's no idiot. He knows everything we do, Ali. You'll be safe here."

Mallory sighed and sank down in his chair. He pulled open a bottle of whiskey from underneath his desk and slowly poured two glasses. He handed one to James and sipped from the other one. He stood tall, one hand in his pocket as he drained the liquid.

"It's not every day I agree with a twenty year old on these sorts of matters, Bond," M said, his voice low and deep. "But your daughter does pose a good point. You're going to be risking your life."

"I'll keep an ear piece in and there must be something in Q Branch you can use to track my movements."

"You'll have to talk to Eve about that." M said. "She can maybe go and find you something in Q Branch...well...with Q not being about..."

"Excellent," James nodded his head. "I should get going then."

"You should," M replied. "Your daughter should be safe enough here tonight. I'll have Eve stay with her whilst you're gone."

"I don't like this," Alison mumbled and M's brows rose on his forehead.

"Neither do I, Miss Holmes," Mallory promised her, his gaze catching hers. "You should go and begin."

Alison remained silent as she sat at an empty desk in Q Division. She watched as her father flirted with the tall woman called Eve Moneypenny. The woman was extremely pretty and Alison was no fool to the way her father looked at pretty women. She only wished he would attempt to find someone to settle down with. Perhaps that would bring some stability to his life.

She supposed that he didn't want stability. Being part of MI6 didn't bring that benefit.

"You've been quiet for the past ten minutes," James informed his daughter as she sat in Q's chair. The blanket she had used when she was last there was over her shoulders and she was holding Q's scrabble mug in her hands, admiring it.

"I don't know what to say," Alison replied to him. "I can't offer you any words of wisdom. You won't listen to me about taking back up."

Eve continued to fix James's wire down the back of his shirt as James buttoned the white material up again. Eve's eyes found Alison and she wondered just how difficult it must be to be in the girl's position.

"Everything will go to plan," James promised her. "Silva won't win this war. Q will be back soon enough and so will I."

"How do you know that? I used to believe it...I used to think it was true...but now? He tried to blow a train up. He's blown MI6 up. He's taken Q. How can we be sure about anything?"

James knew that his daughter was worried. Hell, even James was slightly worried about everything that was happening. He wanted it to be over with. He didn't want to fight Silva anymore. He needed to continue with his life and move on.

James pulled his jacket onto his body and knelt by the chair Alison sat in. He looked at the mug she was holding and smirked for a moment. Only Q could have a scrabble mug. He moved his hands to brush her hair from her cheek, tenderly pushing it behind her ear.

"You'll be safe enough here," James told her. "Eve will see to that. I will be back soon, Ali."

"Promise me," Alison demanded from her father. "Dad, you need to promise me."

"I promise you," James said, kissing her on the top of her head. His hand remained on her cheek as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. He kept his chin resting on the top of her head as he closed his eyes.

"This is ridiculous," Alison complained in a small voice to her father. "All of this is ridiculous."

"Isn't it just," James agreed numbly with her.

He held his daughter for another few minutes before pulling back, his hand entwining into hers. He glanced to the side and did his best to remain calm and collected.

"Do everything that Eve tells you to do," James urged his daughter. "Make sure of that."

"Yes."

"And don't do anything dangerous or reckless," James spoke to her. "I will be back later on."

"Be safe," Alison whispered the only piece of advice she could to her father. She squeezed his hand and James knew that he had to leave before she became an emotional wreck. He turned on his heel and nodded at Eve, making sure she was fine with everything that was about to happen. She nodded back and James left Q Division, fully intent on returning Q to his home and Silva to a cage.

...

Alison bit down on her bottom lip as she checked her watch. Eve was sat on a spare chair near Q's desk. She looked at his intricate working space, noticing how there was nothing out of place whatsoever.

Eve had tried to make small talk with the girl, but she had found it difficult. Obviously Alison had bigger things on her mind. It wasn't until half past eleven when Eve's phone began to ring. Alison's head picked up and she looked over her curled up kneecaps and towards M's secretary.

"Yes, fine. Okay. But they're keeping tabs on him? Tracking him now? Fine. I'll tell her.."

Eve hung the phone up and she stood with haste, looking to Alison with an apologetic glance.

"Silva is driving your father somewhere. We've sent agents to follow him."

"What?" Alison snapped. "He's taken him? How?"

"We don't know," Eve spoke. "Q has been found. Silva let him out of the trunk of his car and then drove off with Bond."

"My dad went willingly?" Alison checked. "Why would he do that? He wouldn't go willingly."

"I don't know," Eve said. "Q's in hospital. Apparently he has taken a beaten to."

Alison gasped and drew a hand over her mouth as Eve shrugged into her leather jacket and grabbed her car keys from the pocket.

"M has told me to take you to see him in the hospital," Eve responded. "Apparently Bond told Q to make sure you were with him. We don't know why, but Q is adamant that you're brought to the hospital to see him."

"Fine," Alison replied, her voice sounding far too eager.

She stood up and kept her blazer around her, moving with haste behind Eve as they wandered through the corridors of MI6.

...

She didn't really know how to react when she saw Q through the glass of his room. Her first reaction was one of horror. She could see that he had a blooded lip and his glasses had been removed from his eyes; a small bruise forming around his left orb. He wore a blue hospital gown and his duvet was pulled up to his lap.

M was currently in the room with him, speaking in hushed tones. Alison remained outside with Eve for a few moments, the beginning of a headache forming as she leant her forehead against the cool wall.

"Alison," Eve suddenly spoke.

The girl opened her eyes and blinked as her vision blurred. She saw M stood by the door, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the girl.

"You can go in now," he spoke in a drawl. "Eve will be out here to take you home in a while-"

"-Can I not stay with him?" Alison wondered. "I don't want to leave him here alone. Besides, if my dad wanted me here then there has to be a reason behind it. I should stay here and do as he said."

M took a deep breath and nodded at her, looking at Eve with an arched brow.

"Go home, Eve," he urged her. "I have an agent patrolling the ward for Q's safety. No doubt Miss Holmes here should be protected too."

"Yes, sir," Eve said and inclined her head before she left down the corridor.

M held the door open for Alison and the young woman stepped inside, looking over to Q as he stared back at her with narrowed eyes.

"Alison," he spoke her name softly. "Thank goodness you're here."

"Of course I'm here," Alison replied, slowly moving over to Q's bedside. "I would have come regardless of anything."

"But it is good that you're here," Q replied to her. "I saw what he was planning...I was there when he was doing it. He was going to blow up MI6's underground base. He showed Bond and that's why he's gone with him. Silva knew that Bond would leave you there. It was a threat. A good one at that."

"And...did he do this to you?" Alison wondered, perching on the side of Q's bed.

The quartermaster moved his hand to rest on top of Alison's. He looked through his blurry orbs down to the contact before he felt her free hand raking through his brow curls, pushing them from his face.

"One of his men did," Q said. "He was guarding me. I'm not very good at holding my tongue sometimes. It's a trait of mine, I'm afraid. I speak before thinking quite often."

"I'm so sorry for all of this, Q," Alison whispered to the quartermaster. "If-"

"-I knew you'd begin to blame this on yourself," chuckled Q. "None of this is your fault, Alison. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"How can I help it?" Alison wondered. "Q, I saw a train full of people die...I stood there...and..."

"It was Silva who placed that bomb there," reminded Q. He dared to move his hand up her arm, slowly stroking the material of her blazer that rested there. She continued to run a hand through his hair as Q moved his fingertips to her cheek.

"Your dad has gotten out of a lot of tight situations," Q whispered, sitting up straight so that his face was a few mere inches from Alison's. "He will get out of this mess, Alison."

"Has the situation ever been this tight?" Alison wondered from Q. "Dad said that this is difficult, even for him."

"Bond is a good agent. Silva doesn't stand a chance," Q tried to ease her mind. "You need to keep believing that."

"I'm doing my best," she promised him.

Slowly, she bent her forehead to rest against his, closing her eyes as she inhaled his intoxicating scent. Q felt his breath hitch and a gulp audibly escaped him. Alison slowly kissed his bruise free cheek and Q closed his eyes, his warm breath hitting her own pale skin.

"I'll look after you," Q suddenly promised Alison as he opened his eyes to look at her again.

"I think you're the one who needs looking after," Alison replied.

"I mean it," Q told her. "I won't let Silva get to you again, Alison. If...if your dad doesn't catch him...this time...then I will-"

"-Let's just hope that he will get out of this mess," Alison said, unable to listen to Q and his failure to reassure her. She forced herself to smile weakly at him. Q nodded at her, his faith in Bond wavering slightly. "Besides, we need to make smaller promises before you agree to look after me."

"Like what?" Q wondered.

"Well, I still owe you that drink," Alison reminded him and he reclined back against the pillows.

"I don't drink alcohol," Q told her. "It renders the senses."

"Well, we're definitely not going to have a lot in common," Alison replied, doing her best to keep the tone light. She knew that she would go mad if she didn't. "I take it you don't like partying."

"Not one little bit," Q said to her. "My idea of a good time is sitting in with a cup of earl grey and watching TV, or talking to my cat."

"I didn't know you had a cat," Alison replied.

"Million," Q informed Alison. "She spends most of her time outside, to be honest. She'd be very jealous indeed to know that another woman has offered to take me for a drink."

"Do you think she'll get over it?" Alison teased him and Q shrugged.

"I think she may," Q agreed. "Besides, when we get out of this mess than I do believe I should take you back to the National Gallery to show you the true meaning of paintings."

"I beg you not to," Alison laughed once. "I didn't understand why we were going there in the first place. Dad hates paintings."

"Your father hates culture. I do hope it isn't a trait you have taken from him." Q taunted her and she hit him limply around the arm. Q smirked as she sat down in the seat by his bed and kept his hand inside of hers.

"I like some culture," Alison assured him, folding her legs underneath herself as she sat in the chair. "I like looking around old houses."

"That's one good thing then," Q told her and she yawned. "Perhaps that's one thing we can do together. You can buy me a drink and I can take you around a house."

"I thought you didn't want to date me," Alison replied to Q. "You said you didn't know what you felt."

"I don't," Q said. "I've never felt anything like this before...but...well...I do know that I like you."

Alison smiled softly, squeezing his hand tightly as she heard him speak like that to her. She could feel butterflies forming in her stomach. She hadn't had that feeling in a long time.

"I like you too," Alison replied in a whisper.

Q smiled as he heard her reply to him. He didn't know what else to do. He soon found that they had lapsed into a comfortable silence before he allowed sleep to take him, and not once did his hand move from Alison's.

...

A/N: Thank you to everyone reading and I do hope that you'll leave me a review!


	14. Chapter 14

"So what is the aim?" James asked as Silva drove down the long stretch of motorway. The man had been calm ever since he had told James what he intended to do. "You have already told me that you intend to blow MI6 up."

"I needed some way to make you see that this was the right thing to do," Silva replied, leaning further back in his seat and yawning loudly. "Would you have willingly come with me if I didn't tell you?"

"No," James replied.

"You need to learn to detect liars," Silva said, a small tut escaping his lips as he did so. "There is no bomb under MI6. I knew that you'd leave your daughter there. What better way to make you do my bidding than to tell you that I'll hurt your daughter if you don't?"

James groaned lightly and shook his head.

"I even set up a false activation system in front of Q," Silva commented, "just to make it more believable."

"Very clever," James commented to him.

"I like to think that I am," Silva said with a small smirk. "Now, you must be wondering where on earth we're going. I know that I am."

"It did cross my mind," James admitted to him.

Silva kept silent, switching lanes whilst James looked out the window. He was calm and collected; doing his best not to look positively distressed at the situation he was currently in. Of course he was worried. James would be lying if he said he wasn't. The trick was never to let it show.

"I honestly have no idea," chuckled Silva. "I just wanted to speak to you without anyone else listening. Do you see how easier it is without the wire? No one needs to know of this."

"You took the wire. No one knows what we're talking about," James replied slowly. "Although I do intend to come out of this alive, and then I will tell M what we spoke of."

"Believe me, I intend to allow you to leave alive," Silva promised him. "I did consider killing you. The thought crossed my mind often. I mean...you did try to stab me in the back when you found mummy."

"Can't blame me," James responded. "So what is the motive now?"

"Why must there be a motive?" Silva asked. "Honestly, I would hope that you'd have some faith in me, 007."

"I'm afraid that faith died when you blew a train up," James assured him.

"I do apologise for that," Silva said. "I knew that you would find out about it. Of course, Q would tell you. He really does have a fancy for that daughter of yours. I checked his internet history. I must say that her Facebook page did pop up more than I would have assumed."

"And if we didn't get off the train?" James wondered. "Do you know how many people died?"

"Seventy one by my count," Silva said without a moment of hesitation. He adjusted his hands on the wheel and quickly glanced to the side to look at James. "I had to get the attention of MI6 somehow. What better way to do that than trying to kill their best agent?"

James took a few moments to shift about on his seat. He remained silent for a few seconds, waiting for Silva to speak first.

"Anyway, I have their attention again," Silva said. "I want them to know that they can't catch me. I want them to stop trying. They won't win, but I know they'll keep sending you after me. Apparently I'm a wanted criminal."

"Where did you get that idea from?" James asked; his voice one of sarcasm. "They won't leave you alone."

"They'd do well to realise they should," Silva responded. "Anyway, I did enjoy the thrill of the cat and mouse game, James. The London Underground was one of my favourites."

"Likewise," James replied, his voice insincere.

"You see, you have to understand me, James," Silva said. "Killing M...it...it did hurt me...I didn't want to do it. I wish that I didn't have to do it."

"But you did," James responded. "You killed her-"

"-Tell me," Silva replied, "would you not have done the same as me? If she had traded you over like a piece of meat, would you have allowed her to get away with it? She gave me to the Chinese...I've never endured pain like it."

"You were going beyond your job."

"Does that mean that I deserve to be tortured?" Silva asked. "I trusted that woman. I trusted her more than anyone. That was until she sold me out, of course. Who is there to trust now? No one. You can trust no one. She lied to you, Bond. You remember that, don't you? She sent you to me, knowing that you could die."

"She trusted me," James replied.

"She risked your life," Silva said. "Her death is not one that I wanted, but it was necessary."

"She's gone now," James snapped back. He didn't know how much more of the talk he could take. He didn't want to speak about M with Silva. "You've had your revenge."

"I have," he agreed, "but I do not intend to go to jail for it. I assure you, James. I will go back into hiding."

"I will come after you. It is my job."

Silva dramatically sighed, shaking his head back and forth for a few moments.

"Then I may have to kill you," Silva said. "I don't want to, Bond. I feel sorry for you. You are too dedicated to your job. Surely it becomes boring."

"Occasionally," Bond replied dryly.

"You could join me, you know." Silva said. "You can pick your own jobs. You can do as you please. It is much more exciting...much more rewarding..."

"I have that unfortunate trait where I love my country too much to betray it," James replied. "Although I do struggle to believe that you're intending to stop this. You've seemingly been intent on killing me for a while now."

"Yes," Silva said. "A mad moment of madness on my part. It is not you who I want dead...well...it will be if you intend on trying to stop me."

"You're a difficult man to keep up with," James replied. "One moment you say one thing, and the next moment you say another thing."

"It's more interesting that way, Bond," Silva assured him. "You should try living like it."

"I'll pass on that," James responded. "So that's all there is? You're assuming that I'm going to let you leave without trying to stop you, and then you think that I will not bother to come after you?"

"If you value your life then I wouldn't bother," Silva assured him. "Besides, I already know I will be able to find a way out of this mess."

"Oh really?" Bond wondered.

Silva turned to look at him, a slim smirk on his face as he did so. He ran a hand through his bleach blond hair and kept quiet. He'd enjoyed his game with Bond, but now it was time to move on for a while. Time to go back to what he did best.

...

"They found him on the side of a motorway," Eve Moneypenny explained the following morning to Alison. She was still sat in the chair by Q's bed. The quartermaster had spent most of his morning undergoing tests before a conclusion was reached. His ribs were simply bruised, and his cuts would heal in time.

"How? Where was Silva?"

"Your father says he left." Moneypenny replied, still playing on her mobile. She held it in her hands, ferociously typing as Alison sat on the edge of the seat. "Bond is fine. He was drugged somehow and abandoned. Apparently he doesn't want to hurt Bond."

"He sent us a bomb," Alison levelled.

"I do not know what Silva is thinking." Eve held her hands up in surrender. "We're tracking him as we speak."

"Do you have Melanie on the case?" Q wondered, his hands nervously twitching as he spoke and asked his question. "She's the next best coder in the department."

"She volunteered to do the job herself," Eve nodded brusquely. "I checked in this morning and they're all very busy working. They have drunk the last of the Earl Grey, however."

"Damn them," Q mumbled under his breath, shaking his head back and forth as a small smile formed on Alison's face.

"I should be getting back to the office. Bond will be here soon enough to take you home, Alison."

"Thanks," Alison said politely, forcing herself to smile at Eve. The tall woman nodded and left the room, leaving Alison alone with Q again. The young woman turned in her seat and let out a deep breath, her eyes going back to Q.

"You heard that," Q spoke. "He's safe and well."

"Everything seems so odd," Alison shook her head. "He was intent on bombing that train and killing us. I don't know why."

"I don't even think Silva knows why," Q responded. "I think he sees killing Bond as being a great achievement. By killing the best agent then he is setting a deterrent. He is showing people that no one can get to him if the best can't. At the same time, I think Silva enjoys the cat and mouse game."

"Why?" Alison wondered.

"Some people do," Q replied. "I do not pretend to understand the working of criminal's minds."

"No," Alison said back to him, sinking back in her chair and pressing her hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes and Q watched her with intent.

"Everything will be fine," Q promised her, daring to move his aching body and rest his hand on the top of the arm to her chair, his fingers slowly resting on top of hers. "Your dad is coming home. Silva has disappeared."

"But not caught," Alison whispered. "Can someone else try to find him? Why does it have to be my dad?"

"I don't know," Q replied, his voice low as Alison moved her hand into his, needing some comfort at that moment in time. She craved for someone to be there for her. She didn't know why. Alison had always felt that way. She'd spent her years living with her cold mother, never truly knowing her absent father.

She'd had numerous boyfriends, surrounded herself with friends. She had done anything possible not to end up alone. She didn't want to be alone. But never before had she felt like she did about Q. Never before did she think that a man with ruffled dark hair and cheap glasses would become this close to her.

And she didn't care. She didn't care if he wasn't her usual type. She felt something for him. Something that excited her and scared her at the same time.

Q moved his thumb over her knuckles, doing his best to calm her down. Little did he know that he was only causing her breathing to speed up and her mind to think inappropriate thoughts at that moment in time. She looked over to him, her brow arched as Q pushed his glasses further onto his nose at the sight of her.

"What?"

"That is extremely distracting," she motioned down to their entwined hands and he smiled gently, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is that a bad thing?" he wondered.

That was another thing about Q. He was insecure around women. Alison could tell that he didn't know how to act around them. Normally she would find that unappealing, but it looked most attractive on Q.

"Could be," Alison muttered back, leaning closer to him and running her hand through his hair. Q trembled slightly under her touch before he moved his own hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes, knowing full well that Q would not be the one to initiate a kiss.

"Interrupting, am I?"

Q's cheeks instantly turned red as Alison dropped his hand and moved her other hand from his hair. She sat up and turned around in her seat. Q looked like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He suspected that Bond had an idea about Alison and him. Q had only hoped that he wouldn't find out.

"Dad," Alison said as Bond remained in the doorway, his brow moving up his forehead. He smirked for a moment, his gaze catching Q's as Alison placed her arms around his neck and he held her back. Bond took a moment to rest his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes and running his hand down her greasy blonde curls.

"How have you been?" Bond asked, finally peeling his blue eyes open to look back at Q. "Or is that a daft question?"

"We've been fine," Alison nodded; her voice calm as she spoke to her father. "What happened to you? Miss Moneypenny told us that you'd be drugged. She said that Silva had fled."

"She spoke true enough," James assured his daughter, allowing her to sit on the side of Q's bed. The quartermaster kept his hands to himself, folding them on his lap whilst Alison patiently waited for her father to speak.

Bond looked tired. Q couldn't help the unnerving thoughts that ran through his mind. He knew that the agent had been tried in the past few weeks. He doubted that MI6 taught you how to deal with multiple death threats. Q knew that he hadn't been shown how to manage them. He wondered if you ever could, especially when your only family is threatened too.

"But why?" Q was the one to ask. "I have my own theories about it. I think he enjoys the cat and mouse game. Besides, he knows that going after you would be seen as a deterrent. If he kills one of the best agents then MI6 will grow concerned. That's what he wants."

"No one knows what Silva wants," James responded, sitting in the spare chair by the bed. He crossed one leg over the other, scratching his kneecap through the material of his grey trousers. "M has Q Branch searching for him."

"I'll be back there soon," Q said with haste, knowing that no one in that division was as talented as he was. He didn't want to sound confident, but he knew his ability.

"They're managing without you, Q," Bond replied. "Besides, you seem to be in good hands here."

James couldn't resist taunting the young quartermaster and his daughter. It seemed that Q was the one who blushed more than Alison. She continued to stare at her father, an un-amused look on her face.

Bond knew how old his daughter was. He knew that she was able to make her own decisions. He only wished that they didn't involve Q. Bond thought he was far too old. Besides, she still had university to finish.

"I take it that you're not as dumb as you look," Alison informed her father.

"I've known for a while," Bond said. "You just told me to ignore it. You're attracted to him, and he's attracted to you."

"No," Q quickly spat out. "I mean...I am attracted...but...well...I don't just like Alison for her looks. Not that they aren't a bonus, but I wouldn't mind if she was-"

"-I think he gets it," Alison interjected to Q.

He allowed a small smile to form on his face before Bond shook his head, his hand holding his forehead as he wondered what he was going to do.

"You're still going back to university," James told her. "You go back in less than two months."

"I know."

"And you're going to graduate."

"Hopefully."

"You'll be in York. Q will be in London."

"So will you," Alison retorted, knowing that her father was trying to deter her from feeling anything for Q. She couldn't help it. "Dad, I'm twenty. I think I can make my own decisions on these matters."

"Do you really?" James asked; his voice one of amusement and scepticism.

James watched on as his daughter gave Q a thin smile and she moved her hand to rest over his. James didn't know what to think at that moment in time. He kept silent, knowing that she would do as she pleased. She always had done.

...

"Where are you going?"

Two more weeks had passed and James had finally managed to prise his daughter away from Q's bedside and get her to come home and stay home. Q had been discharged from the hospital, but he was still on sick leave. His ribs ached and were sore any time he moved. It made it difficult to do anything, but Q soon learned how to cope. He suspected he had no other option but to cope.

James had spent some time with Alison, keeping her near him and showing her more sights around London. He had requested two weeks leave and it had been granted.

"Bulgaria," James replied to his daughter as he continued to pack. "I have a mission there."

"What type of mission?" Alison wondered from him. She remained stood in the doorway, casually leant against the wooden material as she waited for an answer from her father.

"One that I will be briefed on when I head back to base," James responded, pulling another tie out of his drawer. "I was thinking that it would be best for you to go back to Manchester and-"

"-No," she interrupted, her voice stern. She shook her head back and forth. "I'm not going back to Manchester."

"Your mother keeps phoning, Alison," James reminded her. "There are only so many times you can keep her away."

His eyes trailed down to the white bandage on her leg. She wore her shorts, doing her best to keep herself cool in the warm summer air. He couldn't help but think that the burn was the cause of her argument with her mother. If she hadn't been burned then she would never have been in hospital and her mother would never have visited her and argued with her.

"I tried to talk with her," Alison said. "Instead she ranted at me down the phone and told me...well...Carl was in the background...I don't want to speak with her, and I don't want to be anywhere near her; not whilst Carl is there."

James sighed and ran his hand over the top of his blond hair. He turned his head to the side as he finished packing and he noticed Alison was biting down on her bottom lip. A nervous trait.

"I don't want you here alone," James informed her, his voice deep. "Your mother's house would the best place for you."

"Well, I disagree," Alison responded. "I'll be fine here. Besides, I have to get used to being alone again, don't I? You and mum won't be there when I'm back in York."

"No, but you have a flatmate," James said. "Look, I'll have Q check in on you. Will that do?"

"Q is unable to look after himself," Alison replied, moving into her father's room as she saw him drop a jumper to the floor. She bent down to pick it up and folded it neatly for him. "I went over last night and he could barely manage to get himself from his armchair."

"That kid wouldn't last a day in the field," James grunted.

"Probably not," Alison numbly agreed. "But I could always go round to Q's. I doubt he'd mind."

"I doubt he would," James replied, his voice one of distaste. He didn't want to know what his daughter and Q got up to when he was away. He already knew that his daughter wasn't as innocent as he wanted to believe.

"I'd sleep on the couch," Alison numbly said. "I'll be fine. You won't be gone for too long, will you?"

James inhaled sharply and shook his head. "I hope not."

"Then everything will be fine," Alison said, zipping up the bag and handing it over to him. James placed it over his shoulder, crumpling the black suit jacket he wore. He pushed Alison's hair behind her ears as she smiled softly at him, trying to appease him.

"Go to Q's before nightfall," he demanded from her. "Text me as soon as you get there, and take a cab."

"Got it."

"I'll call you when I can," James said.

He could see how worried she was. He only wished he could tell her she had no reason to be.

"I'm not going to Silva," James whispered and her eyes shot back up to look at his.

"How do you know?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "He's still out there somewhere."

"And I can handle him," James promised her, kissing her forehead as he moved to the door and Alison watched him.

"I think I preferred it when you worked for the Ministry of Defence," she informed her father and a crooked smile formed on his pale features. He turned his head over his shoulder to look back at her;

"Sometimes I think I would too," James assured her. "Be good."

"Dad," Alison called out, rushing out of his room as he stood by the door to the corridor. She folded her arms over her chest and bit down on her tongue. She did her best to think of something sensible to say before she said it to him.

James cocked his brow, waiting patiently for her to reply to him. Shaking her head, she felt her orbs widen as she looked at him;

"Be careful."

James smiled back to her and nodded.

"I'll do my best. Bye, Ali."

"Bye."

Alison heard the closing of the door, the clicking of the lock running through her like nails against a chalkboard. She rushed over to the living room window and watched her father move down the street. She placed a hand to the windowsill, holding herself up as her forehead collapsed against the cold glass.

She couldn't help but think that he was going after Silva. That he was going after the man who had caused them so much pain. She'd been told that Silva had disappeared. They thought that would appease her. And it would have if she knew that he couldn't reappear at any given moment.

...

A/N: Sorry that it has been a few days since I updated! Blaming the cold I've had! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and let me know what you think so far! It would mean a lot and of course reviews do keep me inspired!


	15. Chapter 15

"Ah, Alison," Q spoke as soon as he opened his front door. He had one hand on his ribs and the other was pushing at his glasses. Alison stood before him, a new satchel on her shoulder and her own reading glasses on her face. She had an Elle magazine under her arm and a Macbook case in her hands.

"Hey," she said gently to him. "You told me to bring something nice to wear so I did. My dress is in my satchel, but I might need to iron it."

Alison stepped into his apartment and Q stood aside, closing the door as he gulped loudly. He didn't particularly know what to think about what he was about to ask her. He didn't know if it was too soon for her to be seen in public view with him. He certainly hoped not.

"So, what is going on?" Alison wondered, placing her things on the breakfast bar. She smiled over to Q and frowned as he continued to look aggrieved by something. She didn't know what had caused him to look so nervous.

"I have friends from Oxford," Q explained, placing his hand over his ribs as he moved to the breakfast bar and leant against it. "They live in London now...well...I say friends...they're acquaintances. Mother always told me that I would need some friends. I often disagreed. Anyway, these friends are...well...I tolerate their presence occasionally, and they're holding a party tonight."

"Okay," Alison drawled, wondering if they were friends or not. She had no idea. "I'm guessing that you want to go to the party then?"

"Well, that is the thing," Q complained. "I haven't been to the past three and peer pressure is sometimes annoying."

"I get it," Alison said, wondering how many times Lucy had urged her to come out to a party. How many times had she refused her friend? Not many times, she hazarded to guess.

"Do you?" Q wondered. "I wouldn't want to drag you with me, but I would like it if you came with me. I've...well...never been with a girl..."

"It's fine, Q," Alison promised him. "I'm well adjusted to parties in case you don't remember."

"Yes," Q responded. "You did say something about that. Anyway, the parties tend to be like university parties so don't worry. I could swear that some people don't mature from eighteen year olds."

"That's the life," Alison grinned back and Q flicked the switch to the kettle.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he wondered and Alison couldn't help but laugh as she found the iron in his cupboard. She pulled the board out and went to heat up the iron, making sure it had enough water in it.

"Pre drinks are normally a lot crazier than a cup of tea," Alison replied to him.

He shook his head as he heard her and she kept quiet for a few moments. Shaking her head, she watched as Q poured himself a drink.

"I don't really like tea," Alison admitted to him. "I much prefer coffee."

"I know that my sense of humour is non-existent," Q told her, "but you have to be joking about that. How can you not like tea?"

"I prefer coffee," Alison shrugged nonchalantly and pulled out her creased dress from the satchel. She draped it over the ironing board and looked at the material. She began ironing before Q handed her a glass of water. He knew that she liked water.

Q took a seat on the stool, quietly groaning as he lifted himself onto the seat. He watched Alison as she ironed quietly, her hair falling into her face. He looked to the dress and examined it himself. There were three quarter sleeves to a simple black dress with a white collar.

"That's rather conservative," Q informed her, "in comparison to your Facebook photos."

"You need to stop Facebook stalking me," Alison urged him, her tone playful as she looked at it. "Why? Does it look too much like a mum dress?"

"No," Q assured her. "It's lovely, Alison. I was just saying that it is conservative."

"Well I didn't want to go for something too slutty," she responded and Q blushed at the thought of her in one of her shorter dresses. "I didn't know why you wanted me to bring a dress. I assumed it would be a date...well...sort of...but this is the only dress that I can wear with tights. I still have that stupid bandage on my thigh."

"You should be going back to the hospital soon, shouldn't you?" Q checked and she nodded.

"Next week sometime," she replied. "The scarring is still prominent and disgusting."

"It is not disgusting."

"Not to you, but it is to me," Alison replied. "Anyway, it doesn't matter in the scheme of things."

She finished ironing and placed the equipment away, hiding it in the cupboards.

"So, that means that people there are going to speak your real name, aren't they?" Alison checked with Q. He took a deep breath and nodded at her. He suspected that they would. A giddy look came over her as she leaned on the breakfast bar and angled her upper half to face him.

Q held his mug tightly and took a deep breath.

"I suppose that they will."

"And can you suppose that the suspense is killing me?" Alison teased him further and he chuckled, placing his mug back down on the worktop.

"Brenton Davidson."

Alison allowed the name to sink in and the smile fell from her eyes. She nodded, taking it into consideration before Q looked at her and a small smirk played on his face;

"I'd prefer for you to call me Q."

"Yeah...I think that I've gotten used to it," Alison replied. "If you don't mind, that is?"

"Not at all," Q said. "Anyway, if there is anything that you need to do before we leave then go ahead." He picked his mug up and watched Alison stand up again.

"I'm going to go for a shower and freshen up, if that's okay?" Alison checked with Q. He nodded at her and looked at her over the brim of his mug.

"No problem," he replied and watched her leave for the bathroom. He took a deep breath and moved into his own room with his mug, wondering what was acceptable to wear for parties.

...

There were some days when Q didn't bother to think about the eight year age gap between him and Alison. He sometimes didn't care. He knew plenty of people who were more than ten years older than their partners. His father was six years older than his mother. It made no difference. Although it did cause Q to become annoyed when people continuously spoke of it.

"Oh, you are still in university? So how did a teacher like Brenton get you? Don't tell me it is teacher and pupil relationship?"

"No," Alison explained.

She looked around, wondering where Q had gotten to. He had told her that he needed to use the bathroom five minutes ago. Alison felt out of her depth as people drank and it caused them to loosen up, many of them laughing and joking and spilling things. Normally Alison would be one of them.

But that night she held her wine glass in her hand and sipped delicately on it, standing dutifully by Q's side.

"Brenton and I met in an art gallery," she replied, exaggerating the truth but failing to care. She didn't like Q's friends. Most of them seemed obnoxious and too intelligent for her. "He was looking at this painting of a ship being tugged away."

"The Fighting Temeraire tugged to her last Berth," the man nodded. "It is a piece of art by J.M.W. Turner."

Alison didn't want to admit to him that she had no idea what he was talking about. She didn't particularly find art that interesting.

"So what did you think of it?" he asked her, swigging some more alcohol from his beer bottle. Alison looked around, wondering when Q would reappear and rescue her. She leant back against the wall in the kitchen as the man seemingly moved closer. He raised his arm and rested it against the wall by her head.

"I thought it was just a big ship," she informed him. "Although I don't know too much about ships. I don't know too much about art in general."

"I see," he replied. "So what is it that you do?"

"Maths," Alison replied.

"Maths is something that I was always good at. You need to be goof to go into accounting."

"Do you?" Alison wondered, looking around and pleading for Q to move to her. The guy was obviously leering. He was a twenty eight year old who was used to getting what he wanted. "That's fascinating. I should go and find Brenton."

"Hold up," he replied to her, his hand around her wrist as she looked back at him with an arched brow. "We've barely gotten to know each other, Alison."

"Yes; and there could be a reason for that," Alison replied.

"Brenton is hardly an exciting man."

"No, but he is a gentleman and I came here with him," Alison responded and she sipped her wine. Slowly, she pushed it from her and allowed the alcohol to tumble down the front of his shirt, drenching everything. She placed a hand to her mouth, her brows arching out of sarcasm as he released her and looked down to the damp spot on his shirt.

"Oh dear," Alison spoke, her tone one of insincerity. She placed her wine glass on the sideboard behind her, making sure she didn't knock over any photo frames on the way. "I honestly didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came over me."

The man hardly looked impressed with Alison as he glowered at her, keeping quiet so that he didn't make a scene. With one final shrug of her shoulders and seemingly innocent smile, she took off up the stairs to search for Q.

It didn't take her long to find him. He was dressed in dark blue jumper with a blue tie against his white shirt, along with plain dark trousers. Alison slowly advanced up the stairs, the creaking causing Q to look up and at her.

She took a seat on one step below him, turning her body to fold her arms in his lap as he bent down and forced himself to smile tightly at her.

"What's wrong?" Alison wondered. "I've just had to defend myself from one of your creepy friends."

"Which one?" Q wondered from her.

"No idea what his name was," Alison responded. "I accidentally poured wine over him though. I think he got the message."

"Danny," Q grumbled, doing his best to deduce which one of his friends was creepy enough to be the culprit. "I'm sorry. I should have come down to you."

"I'm fine," Alison replied. "Better than you, anyway."

Shaking his head, Q pushed his hand through his hair and shook his head. He knew that he was being irrational. There was no need for him to fear such a thing. Yet he couldn't stop himself. He didn't know why. He suspected that he was more prone to people's opinions then he had first thought.

"I honestly don't know why I am so bothered. I knew that people would ask questions about how we met. In all honesty, the age difference at this moment in time is quite large."

"Q," Alison whispered.

The quartermaster shook his head to stop her from saying anything further to him. "The more I think about then the more of an age gap it appears. Besides, people are right. You really are much better looking-"

"-Shut up," Alison interrupted, her voice harsh as she spoke to him. She stood up on the step, her hands on her hips as she looked down at him. "What people think hardly matters, Q. People here don't know anything, do they? They don't know who you are and they don't know who I am. Yes, I know that I am twenty. I know that I am still quite young, but what does that matter? I really like you...probably more than my dad would want me to...but I do like you."

She held her hand out to him, urging for him to take it. She waited patiently for a few seconds and Q finally placed his hand inside of hers. He stood up and looked back down at her as she gently smiled at him, her eyes staring into his.

"Can we go now?" Alison checked. "You need to stop moping over this, and I need to get out of here before that guy comes and accuses me of throwing my drink over him."

Q kept his hand in Alison's as he led her back down the stairs and to the coat stand by the door.

"You technically did throw your drink over him." Q replied to her.

"No one else needs to know," Alison replied and Q grabbed his jacket and draped it over his arm. He slowly ushered her to the door, opening it and making sure no one had noticed them as they slipped into the dark of the night.

Q pulled out his iPhone and looked down at the screen as he walked closely by Alison's side down the suburban road.

"It's only ten degrees," Q informed her, his voice a matter of fact. "You must be cold."

"No, I'm fine," Alison promised him.

She didn't get too much of a chance to protest as Q draped his jacket over her shoulders. Smiling at the seemingly protective gesture, she gripped the lapels tighter and ambled by his side as he placed his hands into his pockets, burying his iPhone in there too.

"So...are you okay now?" Alison checked with him. "Your friends were hardly pleasant about our situation. I thought they were rude to you. There really was no need for half of the comments they made."

"Only half?" Q quirked an amused brow.

"Well, perhaps more," she admitted back to him, suddenly stopping.

Q took another second to move forwards before he too stopped, wishing that they could keep moving. Stopping and starting only aggravated his ribs.

"What is it?" Q asked her. "I assume there is a reason as to why you've stopped in the middle of the street?"

"Of course there is," Alison replied. "I...I don't really know what to say, Q. I mean...at the end of the day it is your decision if you even want to keep seeing me...or if you really think that it won't work."

"Did I say that I didn't want to see you?" Q asked from her.

"You never said that you did want to be with me," Alison replied in a grim tone.

Sighing, Q wondered how long it would take him to understand a girl like Alison. He had walked out of the party with her. He thought it was apparent that he had made his decision. Apparently she needed to be told straight out.

"You know that I like you," Q told her. "I just want that to be all that matters. I don't want to think about the age difference, or how you should be attracted to some guy who plays sport and not some dweeb like me."

Rolling her eyes, Alison took another step towards him, daring to move her hand to reach for Q's.

"You do know that you are good looking, don't you?" Alison checked with him. "You're hardly unattractive, Q. Yes...you can be a dweeb when it comes to this sort of thing, but it is rather endearing."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult," Q informed her, his tone deep and confused.

Laughing, Alison found it difficult to resist pushing her hand through his hair. Q gulped loudly as she moved closer to him. He could feel her body pressed against his and he couldn't pretend that he didn't feel something run through him at the warmth of her body.

"Compliment," Alison said. "You're new to relationships...well...so am I, I suppose. But you are the only one who I want, Q."

Q took another deep breath and he wondered if her pulse was as high as his was at that moment in time. How could she not feel so warm and flushed? He didn't know, but he did know that being this close to her without doing anything was something that he was struggling to cope with.

Q quickly moved his head downwards, catching her by surprise as he pressed his lips against hers. Alison almost choked at the sudden movement. The forcefulness from Q took her off guard and she took lead of the kiss, knowing that Q wasn't entirely too sure what to do. She could feel his hands on her hips and she rested hers on his shoulders.

Alison was unsure how long they stood there for. She doubted Q minded that much. She didn't particularly care that much.

They only pulled away when they realised that breath was needed in order to survive.

"Well, that was nice," Q finally gasped out as she began to walk again, her arm through his. She could feel the swelling of her lips and the heat of her cheeks after what they had just done. Not that she was complaining, of course.

She said nothing as she gave Q a few seconds to catch his breath again. She turned her head to look at the dark sky, wondering where her father was at that moment in time. Her mood soured for a moment as she prayed for him to be safe and come home soon. She closed her eyes and focused on the hold of Q's arm around hers, needing something to distract her before she went mad with worry.

...

A/N: So thank you to gillyhelbee, my only reviewer for the previous chapter. Pretty please, if you are reading then do let me know what you think. It really would mean a lot to me to know that people are reading this! I thought that I'd focus on Q and Alison for this chapter but Bond shall return shortly!


	16. Chapter 16

Q changed into his pyjamas once he had returned back to his flat. He found Alison sat on the sofa, completely changed in an old concert shirt and a pair of shorts. She was sat on his leather couch, her legs pulled up to her chest as she watched the news channel on his TV.

Standing in the doorway, the quartermaster watched how she nervously pushed a hand through her hair. He thought that she was acting surprisingly calm considering her father had gone off on another mission. He'd hardly seen her nervous. It was only when she was alone and left to her thoughts did the nerves come to her.

He could tell that she was attempting to be strong for her father's sake. She was doing her best not to look weak in front of anyone. Q slowly moved from his bedroom, his bare feet padding across the wooden floor before he came to the couch. He took a seat next to her and lifted his arm up to rest across the back of the seat.

Alison took the movement as some kind of invitation. She rested against Q's side as he watched the TV, keeping quiet for a moment before he spoke;

"You don't need to pretend all the time."

Alison said nothing back to him, wondering what she was supposed to be pretending about. Staying silent, she held the remote in her hands and turned the volume up as she heard the mention of Bulgaria. It turned out that there had been some riot and there was nothing about her father.

"Alison," Q whispered her name, snapping her out of the daze she had found herself in. "He'll be safe."

"I know," Alison muttered, not entirely convinced. "I know that it's his job. He's been doing it for years and I never knew."

"And he will do it for a few more years," Q promised her. "007 is skilled enough to survive out there. Just...don't feel like you need to hide the fear you feel whenever he goes. You know that I will understand and do my best to distract you from it. R is in Q Branch making sure that Bond has everything he needs."

"R?" Alison questioned.

"Melanie," Q confirmed. "She's been promoted to my deputy since my sick leave which, coincidentally, ends next week."

"Have you not enjoyed having the time off?" Alison wondered from him. "What happens when you go back to work? I assume I won't see you as much as I have been doing."

"Probably not," he admitted. "The job is a hectic one, but I will try to make sure I get to see you."

"That would be nice," Alison replied in a soft tone, gently resting her head against Q's shoulder as the quartermaster dared to prise the remote from her hands. She didn't move as she felt Q rest his chin on the top of her curly hair.

"You can't watch the news and wait for bad news. Your dad wouldn't want you to," Q whispered down to her, his hand still on the remote as she kept her grip on the remote. "Alison, let me change the channel."

Slowly, she allowed Q to take the remote and she closed her eyes as Q kissed the top of her head.

...

"So this day includes me driving?" Alison checked with Q, her brow arched with concern for his safety. She sat next to him on the high speed train. He nodded once, turning his gaze to the side to look at her.

"I hope you don't mind," Q responded. "There should be a hire car by the time we get there."

Q had made sure Alison had been awake and ready for half past six that morning. She had complained ferociously about it, moaning to Q that she needed more than seven hours to sleep. Q had smirked and thought about how typically student like she looked. She'd changed into tights and her blue dress, a blue cardigan around her shoulders. Q donned his usual attire of trousers, shirt and brown cardigan with a loose tie.

"And can I know where I am driving to?" Alison wondered. "Well, I will need to know, won't I?"

"I'll be the one directing you," Q replied. "I don't intend to tell you just yet, Alison."

"You really are keeping this quite a secret. I'm beginning to worry."

Q chuckled and pulled out the painkillers from the messenger bag he had brought with him. He found that the pain was numbed if he continued to does on pills. He didn't mind too much. He preferred to keep the pain at bay. Besides, he had to if he was going to get through the day.

Alison lapsed back into silence as Q read his paper and she continued with her Elle magazine. The train finally came to a halt and they disembarked at Newquay in Cornwall. Alison followed Q from the station, keeping close to his side before he dealt with getting the car.

She looked at it and her eyes widened.

"It's a Ford Fiesta," she commented as Q handed her the keys. "I drive one of these in York."

"Then we should be safe," Q replied and she unlocked the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Did you plan this?" Alison suddenly asked Q. "Did you look up what car I drove?"

Q shifted around uncomfortably in his seat, playing with the bag that sat on his lap. Alison pulled her chair forwards and made sure she was close enough to the clutch. She turned her gaze back to the side and arched her brow.

"I thought that it would be better for you to drive the same car," admitted Q. "I know that they vary...and...well...statistically speaking, this should be safer."

"I thought that you'd feel safer driving?"

"I don't drive," Q replied and he moved into his messenger bag, pulling out the directions he had printed off from the internet. He flicked through them as Alison started the car up and he pulled his seatbelt on.

"Why not?"

"It's not safe," Q said. "I don't like to fly either. You'll find that train and cab are usually my preferred methods of travel."

"I count myself fortunate that you're allowing me to drive then."

"I have faith," Q responded.

He had done his best to organise a day out to make her mind from Bond. Besides, Q wanted to spend more time with her. He enjoyed every second in her company. His lips pulled up at the thought, and he wondered if he would feel like this forever.

That was until he saw Alison's driving.

"I told you it was that exit," Q informed Alison, pointing to the exit that they had just missed. Alison continued to drive down the stretch of A road, rolling her eyes as she pulled off at the next junction.

"Not this one," exasperated Q. "The one you went straight by."

"I'm going up this one and then over the bridge to the other side of the road," Alison explained. "I'll travel back to the previous exit and then we'll be back on track. Honestly, Q, you need to calm down. I have this under control. You just gave me the information when it was too late."

"I don't deal well with others being in control," Q complained. "It causes me to stress more than I should. Some training from MI6 has helped to reduce it, but not enough."

"My driving is hardly stressful," Alison replied in a mutter.

She rejoined the carriageway and moved out of the previous exit, following Q's instructions to the letter. She finally pulled off on a small road and continued to drive down it, finally seeing where they were.

"Lanhydrock?" she checked with Q. "There's a house here, isn't there? I remember mum said something when we came to Cornwall once."

"It is," Q informed her as she parked the car and turned off the ignition. "I remembered that you said you liked looking around old houses...well...I thought it would be a nice day out..."

Alison didn't know how to feel at that moment in time. She could feel something ache inside of her as she leant over the gearstick to Q, slowly pressing her lips to his before pulling back.

No one had ever gone to so much trouble for her. Not in one of her relationships had anyone put her first. But Q...Q was always putting her first and it made her feel special. She only wished that she could repay him somehow.

"Thank you," Alison whispered and Q nodded, a small blush on his cheeks as he looked back at her.

"You're well...you're welcome," Q responded with a small stutter. "We should go. It is a five minute walk to the house."

Nodding, Alison slipped out of the car and followed Q around to the trunk. The quartermaster took a few moments before he dared to make the first move. He held his messenger bag on his shoulder and used his other hand to slip into Alison's. She looked down, shocked that he had been the one to initiate the movement.

She didn't complain. She remained silent for a second and looked down, pushing her hair behind her ear. She walked by Q's side for the entire journey, constantly looking around at the sights she was seeing. Q informed her of some facts he had learned on the internet as they followed the rest of the crowd through the vast house.

Alison listened to him with intent, soaking in every word that she heard from him.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Q suddenly whispered once everyone had left the room they were stood in.

Alison looked around the grand decor, taking in everything from the four post bed to the intricate oak fireplace. The smell was musty like she had expected from an old house, but it made it even better. She moved both of her arms to wrap around one of Q's arms, her head moving to rest on his shoulder as he looked around the room.

"To think that someone stood in this same place in a different era to us...it does make you wonder what it truly was like back then."

"Have you not watched Downton Abbey?" Alison wondered from him.

Q rolled his eyes. "I doubt that is entirely accurate, Alison."

"I like to think that it was like that," Alison admitted. "Obviously without the sudden deaths that came this series."

"I only managed to watch the first two seasons," Q admitted. "Work took priority and I never caught up on it."

Pulling back, Alison arched a brow at him, an amused grin forming on her lips as she did so. "I didn't think that you were the type of guy to watch Downton. Then again, I never thought that you'd watch something like Emmerdale."

"I'm a man of many talents," Q responded, a slim smile on his face as he read a notice board on the wall. Alison glanced over it; doing her best to focus on that and not the way Q was urging his fingers to wind back into hers.

They finally ended up wandering through the gardens, moving up the hill to look down and over the flowers beneath them. Alison placed her hand to her forehead to stop the sun from burning into her orbs. She continued to stare into the distance, her mind wandering as Q looked back at her.

His eyes remained vacant as he pushed his glasses further onto his nose. She remained oblivious to his inquisitive orbs and Q's lips formed a tight line. He wondered how much longer he had with her before she left for her course. Truth be told, Q felt like some teenager again. He felt as though he had found a girl and had fallen for her during the summer. He couldn't help but think of how cliché he sounded. It annoyed him to even contemplate it.

He was certain that he would see Alison again. Trains were always available, and she said that she drove a car. Yet Q knew that her studies were the most important thing at that moment in time. He didn't intend to get in the way of them.

But for now, for that summer, he would do his best to make sure the butterflies in his stomach never left him alone.

...

"Ask him if he has the equipment in one piece." Q urged Alison as she held her new iPhone to her ear and spoke to her father. Bond had phoned for his daughter whilst she was sat outside a tea room with Q. She had been stuffing her face with a cream tea when she heard the dulcet ringing tone of her mobile.

"Q would like to know if you have destroyed his equipment," Alison informed her father as Q delicately sipped on his cup of Earl Grey.

"Tell Q that if he wants his equipment back in one piece then he should come out here and do the job himself," Bond responded, his voice holding an amused tone. Alison smiled as she heard him and arched her brow, shaking her head at Q.

"I take it that's a no."

"Most certainly," Bond responded.

"Tell him that I will start to charge him if he keeps this up." Q warned Bond through Alison.

The young woman rolled her eyes.

"And tell Q that I still have a gun that is sensitive to my touch alone," Bond responded after hearing Q in the distance.

"Now, now," Alison calmed her father, smirking as she took another sip of her hot chocolate. "When do you think you're coming home?"

"Soon enough," Bond promised her. "I'm doing my best to make sure everything goes to plan."

It was then when Alison heard the soft sound of a moan down the other side of the line. She sat on the edge of her seat, her cup rattling in its saucer as Bond inwardly groaned.

"What was that?" Alison wondered. "Who was that?"

"No one," Bond lied.

"It was," Alison said as she heard the noise again. "I can hear it, dad! Don't tell me that you're sleeping with some woman and calling me at the same time?"

"No."

"Liar."

"You told me not to tell you," he hissed back down the phone to her. "Look, Ali, I really have to go. I'll do my best to be home soon, okay? In the meantime tell Q not to feed you too many cream teas. I know what love you have for them."

"Don't try to change the topic," Alison warned him. "If there is a girl there-"

"-Be safe," Bond interrupted, not in the mood for a lecture from his daughter. "I love you, Alison."

Alison sighed, knowing that she was fighting a losing battle. A slim smile came over her face as she looked down to her lap. "I love you too, dad."

Bond hung up and Alison placed her phone back into her satchel, turning to look at Q as an awkward blush covered his pale skin.

"He was with a woman whilst he phoned me," Alison complained to Q. "Honestly, I keep telling him to settle down. I told him that it would be for the best."

"Bond isn't the settling type," Q quickly told her.

She looked at him in bewilderment, wondering what he was talking about. The look on her face told Q that she had no idea of the rumours that surrounded her father. Of course, why would she? It was hardly in her place to know what he got up to.

It was common knowledge in MI6 that Bond was a ladies' man.

"What does that mean?" Alison asked Q.

"Nothing."

"Tell me," she pushed him. "What do you know that I don't know?"

Q took a deep breath and a sigh ran through him. He fiddled with the fingers on his hands before he looked her in the eye again.

"Your father has a reputation for being in favour with the fairer sex," Q admitted to Alison. "I doubt he's told you that, but he is 007. He's a skilled agent and he is good looking. I assume it is only natural."

Alison shook her head, not even daring to think of her father in meaningless relationships. She wished that she had never pushed Q for an answer.

"I get it," she promised him. "I wish you never told me."

"You did ask."

"I know," Alison responded before she heard her phone begin to ring again.

She thought that it would be her father as she rooted around in her satchel for the ringing device. She pulled it out and checked the ID, her face paling as she saw who it was.

"Your mum?" guessed Q.

"Yes." Alison responded.

"Answer it," Q urged her. "You need to talk to her sooner or later, Alison."

"I'll go for later," Alison mumbled, silencing the phone and dropping it to the table. "If she wants to talk then there is always my voicemail."

Q continued to talk to Alison about the heritage of the surrounding area as her mother phoned her a second time. He followed her eyes to the phone, knowing that she was longing to answer it. The only issue she had was her stubbornness. Q could have sworn that it would be the end of her. Finally, her mother left a voicemail and Alison unlocked her phone.

She listened with intent as Q finished his Earl Grey and placed the cup and saucer back onto the tray. He watched Alison's face as she listened to the message. She started off with a roll of her eyes before she crossed one leg over the other and seemingly began to listen with more intent. She slowly removed the phone from her ear and placed it on the table, a large gulp running through her as her mouth dried up.

"What is it?" Q enquired from her. "You look shaken."

"Mum and Carl have split up," Alison replied. "He trashed the entire house, even my room. She sounds pretty shaken up about it all."

"You should call her back," Q told her. "Did she say why he had broken up with her."

Alison shook her head. "She said that she went back home and found him rooting through the drawers. He said something about how she didn't have what he needed, and then he left."

He frowned at that piece of information. Q stood up after a moment and held his hand out to Alison. "We'll go somewhere quiet and you can call her."

Alison seemed hesitant for a second before Q spoke sense to her;

"Even after everything she's done, she is still your mother, Alison."

It came with one final sigh, but Alison finally took Q's hand and followed his advice.

...

A/N: So thank you to LadyFides and gillyhelbee for reviewing! I do genuinely hope people are sticking with this, and I do hope you'll let me know what you think for encouragement!


	17. Chapter 17

Alison stood underneath a tree in the quietness of the gardens as the rain began to pour down. Q pulled an umbrella from his messenger bag, putting it up and placing it over the pair of them as the rain began to hurl down with haste. Alison kept her iPhone to her ear as she listened to the ringing sound on the other end.

"She's not picking up," Alison spoke impatiently to Q.

"Give her time," Q responded to her. "Also, come here. This umbrella is nowhere near as big as I had hoped it would be."

Alison stepped closer to Q, huddling under his umbrella as he placed his arm around her waist and held her by his side. She stood where she was as Q held the umbrella in the middle of them.

"That was a line, Q," she whispered up to him as she titled her head and looked him in the eye. "Urging me to come closer...very smooth indeed."

"What can I say?" Q replied, squeezing her waist as she wrapped her free arm around him too. Q kept quiet for a few moments as Alison waited with patience. "Even the computer genius' have some lines."

Alison leaned in to kiss him swiftly as her mother finally picked up the phone.

"Ali...are you there?"

Alison swiftly pulled back from Q as the quartermaster ran his hand down his chin and Alison turned her attention to her mother, doing her best not to sound too harsh on the woman. She had just split up with Carl and she did seem distressed in her voicemail. Although Alison still held a grudge. She held a grudge for the way her mother had spoken to her.

"Yeah, mum," Alison replied. "I got your voicemail."

"I'm glad," Maria responded to her daughter. "I don't understand, Alison. Why would Carl do this? I thought we were meant to be together."

"He's an asshole," Alison blurted out, unable to stop herself from speaking without thinking. "You'll be better off without him."

"I liked him," Maria defended and Alison rolled her eyes. "He was smart and clever, Alison. Do you know how difficult it is for a woman my age to find a man? I had you when I was young and I spent all my time bringing you up. No one wants a young girl who already has a child."

Alison ground her teeth together, doing her best not to snap at her mother and tell her that it wasn't her fault. She wasn't the one who had asked to be a mistake. It wasn't what she had wanted. Yet her mother seemed to resent her.

Squeezing tightly on Q's waist, Alison vented her anger through that. The quartermaster did his best not to wince as his grip increased on the umbrella in turn.

"Why did he trash the house?" Alison wondered.

"I don't know," Maria sniffed. "Maybe he was looking for money or something? That's not important, Alison."

"It kind of is important," Alison responded. "You need to know why he did it, mum. There has to be some reason why he randomly went psycho on you."

"It doesn't matter," Maria snapped at her daughter. "I was falling for him, Alison. Can you not be sympathetic for once in your life?"

"How can I be sympathetic about a guy who insulted me? He barely knew me and he said some horrible things!" Alison snapped, unable to stop herself. Q tried to soothe her by resting his cheek on the top of her head and allowing her to burrow against his neck. "You'll be better off in the long run, mum. You will find someone."

"I doubt it," Maria responded.

"Look, do you want me to come up to Manchester?" Alison wondered.

She didn't want to go, but she would do the best for her mother, even if that meant driving to the local supermarket at ten o'clock at night to buy Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

"You don't want to," Maria said and Alison rolled her eyes. "Anyway, where are you? It sounds as though it is raining."

"I've gone out for the day," Alison said. "Me and a friend took a train to Cornwall and are spending a day here."

"And who is funding this trip?"

"Dad," Alison lied, knowing full well that she didn't want to tell her mother about Q just yet. She didn't need the hassle at that moment in time. "I can come back if you want me to, mum. I don't mind."

"No," Maria said. "I can see that you're having a good time without me. Besides, you always did like to spend time in London with your father. I hope he is treating you well?"

Alison closed her eyes and she wondered where her father was. She only hoped that he had moved out of bed. "He's fine," Alison promised her mother. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Maria assured her daughter. "I have a week away from work and your aunt is staying for the evening. I just thought that you should know what has happened. I often wonder if I drove him away...we worked a lot...and he was never happy with the way you treated me or the way you spent-"

"-He didn't know me," Alison hissed. "He formed his opinion of me as soon as he met me, didn't he? Carl was a dick-"

"-Alison," Maria snapped down the phone. "He was not."

"Whatever," Alison replied. "You're better off alone than with him."

"How can you say that?"

"Quite easily," Alison replied. "You'll see that soon enough."

"You have no idea, Alison," Maria responded. "You spend most of your time with boys who you don't appreciate. I know what you get up into York."

"I've changed," Alison replied as she inhaled Q's scent. "Don't drag me into this, mum. This is none of my mess. I was willing to come and see you through it."

"Stay where you are, Alison," Maria spoke hastily. "I'll manage alone."

"Mum-" Alison began to speak, trying to appease the woman on the other end of the line, but she had hung up.

Alison looked at her blank screen and she tapped her phone against her chin as she sighed deeply and Q looked down at her.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Alison lied. "She's always been stubborn. She insists that Carl was good for her. I don't see how. She's afraid of being alone...but...to spend her time with some ass like Carl? She'd be happier alone. She wasn't even bothered about why he trashed the house."

"You look worried," Q told her, noting the frown lines in her forehead as they began to move from underneath the tree and down the stone path. Q continued to hold the umbrella above them as Alison adjusted her satchel on her shoulder.

"Not worried," Alison assured him. "I'm just confused about why he would trash her house. I mean...my room? Why would he do that? Why has he left her? It all seems very odd to me."

Q looked around, always conscious that someone was listening to him. He suspected it was a hazard that came with working for MI6.

"I can look into him," Q told her softly. "I can see where he has gone. I doubt it will be difficult."

"You'd do that?" Alison wondered. "Wouldn't you get into trouble?"

Q chuckled and they finally reached the car as Alison pulled the key out of her satchel. She unlocked the car and Q walked her to the driver's side, opening her door for her.

"I doubt anyone would even notice, and if they did then I could cover my tracks."

Alison stood by him, in between his tall figure and the door. She rested her hands on his shoulders and moved in to kiss him again. Q pulled back after a second, his lips tugging upwards against his better judgement as he pushed her matted hair from her cheek.

"You're letting water into the car," he told her. "Get in and stop distracting me."

"I rarely hear you complaining," Alison called back to him and Q closed her door as she placed the key into the ignition.

Q walked back to the passenger side and closed his umbrella, giving it a shake as the water hit his glasses. He finally sat down in his seat and placed the umbrella by his feet. Alison adjusted the temperature, helping to get rid of the steam on the windows as she placed the gear into reverse.

"Can you pass me my glasses?" Alison wondered from Q. "They're in the flowery case."

"Are you feeling okay?" Q asked, concerned that she had asked for her glasses.

"I'm afraid a headache is an occupational hazard when talking to my mother," Alison complained.

Q moved into her satchel which was sat by his seat. He pulled her glasses out and handed them to her. She slid them onto her eyes and focused on the road, doing her best not to lose concentration as the rain lashed down against the window screen. Q took a deep breath, a moment of nervousness running through him.

He didn't like driving at the best of times. He wasn't too keen on such heavy rain whilst driving either.

"Why don't you pull into a pub?" Q suggested after he gulped for a moment. "We can have a drink and dinner. It might give time for the rain to pass."

"When's the last train?" Alison wondered. "Will we make it?"

"Oh, don't worry," Q responded hastily. "The last train is at ten o'clock tonight. We have plenty of time."

"Sounds fine to me," Alison nodded back.

She continued to drive down the streets, checking her rear view mirror occasionally. She looked multiple times, the same car following her all the time. She didn't consider it suspicious. The roads were rural and everything seemed to be miles from anything else.

She did question it when she indicated to pull into the nearest pub.

"This car has been following me for the entire journey," Alison suddenly told Q.

The quartermaster looked out of the wing mirror and narrowed his eyes. He could see a tall man driving the Mercedes. His mind went into overdrive instantly as Alison drove through the middle of the parking spaces.

"Pull back out onto the main road," Q advised her. "If he follows then we know something is wrong."

"Got it," Alison agreed, doing as she had been told.

She turned left out of the car park and rejoined the road.

"He's still following me," Alison complained to Q. "That's not a coincidence, is it?"

"Don't panic, Alison," Q urged her as she moved into fourth gear. She only dared to go into fifth gear when she saw that the car was gaining on her. "Don't speed, Alison."

"I'm not," she promised him. "It's sixty miles per hour."

"And you're doing seventy," Q told her, leaning over to check the speedometer. Alison bit down on her tongue as she followed the signs for Newquay. Her hands held the wheel with brute force as she continued to drive and Q looked behind them.

"Keep going to the station," he urged her. "When we get there then we hand the keys over and we go. Understood?"

"Understood," she promised him.

Not that Alison had the chance to do that. She looked in the rear view mirror as the car came dangerously close.

"Q, he's going to hit us!" Alison snapped.

Sure enough, the car rammed into the back of the rental car. Alison shrieked as she felt the vehicle skid and she did her best to keep it under control. Q felt his body shake as Alison turned the wheel and the car spun multiple times.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she roared out, doing her best to stop the car from hitting the trees by the side of the road. She failed miserably, the vehicle's front crashing into a trunk and dinting the bonnet. She cried out as the car came to an abrupt stop before looking across to Q.

She moved her hand over the gearstick to take hold of his arm.

"Are you okay?" she wondered from him.

"I'm fine," Q said after a second, his eyes looking at her as they turned around to see that the car following them had stopped. "Alison, lock the doors. Lock the doors and don't look at him. Keep your gaze on me."

Q moved his hand to rest on her cheek. He turned her gaze to him and his thumb soothingly stroked the skin on her cheek. She gulped loudly as Q looked behind her shoulder and saw the man stood there. Alison's breathing increased as she heard a rap on the window and she ignored it. Q kept his eyes on her, doing his best to ignore the man.

It wasn't until he used his elbow to smash the glass did Q know that they were in trouble. The shards shattered over Alison as she screamed and Q pushed her head down against his chest as he watched the man.

"What do you want?" Q snapped from him, seeing his ginger hair plaster to his face due to the rain.

"Nothing," the man promised them. "I only wished to give you something. That was all. You didn't need to keep driving away from me."

"You didn't need to ram the car either," Q replied and Alison sat up, sitting as far away from the man as possible. She could feel the handbrake against her backside as Q kept his hand on her waist.

"I was growing tired," the man replied. "Besides, I didn't know how long you would keep going for. I do have other jobs to do. I'm just a delivery man."

"So what is this?" Alison wondered, her voice shaking. "What is so important?"

"Apparently, this," he said and dug into his pocket to pull out a memory stick. He handed it to Alison and she took it with shaking hands. Q looked at it before looking back to the man by the window.

"Who gave you this?" he wondered.

"Some guy," he shrugged. "Didn't tell me his name. Anyway, sorry about the car...but...well...I'm not that sorry."

The guy moved off and neither Alison nor Q made an attempt to follow him. Q looked to Alison as she took a deep breath and he looked at the memory stick in her hands.

"Are you okay?" Q checked with her as the car zoomed past them.

"Swell," Alison responded sarcastically.

"Stay there...we're getting out of this car," Q told her and he opened his door and moved around to hers. He opened the door and pushed his arms under her legs, hauling her into his arms to avoid the glass that sat on her seat. He lowered her down before moving to hide underneath the trees. He prised the memory stick from her hands and she looked at it as he observed it.

"Who is doing this?" Alison wondered from Q.

"Anyone," Q said. "I'll find out soon enough."

And he would. He called for a cab as the pair of them stood by the side of the road, huddled under the umbrella as they waited. Neither of them said anything, both of them too shaken up by what had just happened.

...

A/N: Thanks to LadyFides and aml10 for reviewing! We're back into the action again so please do let me know what you think and stay tuned for more!


	18. Chapter 18

"The question is; who was it meant for?" Q wondered as soon as he and Alison stepped back into his apartment. Both of them were sopping wet after leaving the train station and finding themselves unable to find a cab back home. Q's umbrella had broken in the rain and strong winds, leaving Alison and Q in the rain with nothing else to do other than walk and try to find a cab on their way.

"It can't be for me," Alison shook her head, refusing to believe that anything bad was happening again. "I mean...you're the head of Q Branch...I'm just a student."

"With a father who is a double oh," he reminded her as he walked into the bathroom and opened the door to the airing cupboard. He pulled out two towels and handed one to Alison as she began to run it through her hair, doing her best to get the knots out of the thick locks.

"No one knows that," Alison replied.

"Silva knew," Q reminded her. "Who is to say that no one else can know?"

Little did Q know, but Alison had already thought of that. She had sat on the train ride home and thought long and hard. She longed for it not to be Silva again. She didn't know how much she could handle if it was. She wanted nothing more to do with that man.

"You could be right," Alison whispered, draping the towel over her neck.

Q looked back across to her and managed a small smile in her direction before he pulled the flash drive from his pocket. He had constantly patted his trouser pocket on the way, making sure that the memory stick was still there.

"Everything will be okay," Q promised her. "You should go for a shower and dry off. You must be freezing."

"Shouldn't we do something with that first?" she wondered, motioning to the stick. Q nodded at her and knelt by the coffee table where his laptop sat.

"I should suspect so. I will look, Alison. Do not worry."

"No," Alison suddenly snapped at Q as he fired his laptop up. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and moved to grab hold of her Macbook. She had left it on Q's worktop from the previous night after she had attempted to do some work. She moved over to kneel beside him and placed her Macbook next to his laptop.

"What if it was meant for you?" Alison asked him. "Your computer is full of government secrets. Mine is full of maths. Surely it is safer to use mine?"

Q took a few seconds to think before he nodded in agreement with her. He took a few seconds to allow her to log in before she moved his laptop out of the way. She replaced it with her own Macbook and Q took a second to look at her screensaver.

"You look...well..."

"Oh," Alison said and she looked at the photo. "That's me and Lucy baking for our house at Christmas. We made an absolute mess and the aprons were a novelty purchase."

Q smirked as the two blondes stood in a messy kitchen, both of them wearing green Christmas tree aprons. Between them they held a small chicken, stuffing falling out of it as they laughed. There was flour over their faces and their sleeves were rolled up to their elbows with splotches over their pale skin.

"You look...relaxed..." Q told her, finally drawing his eyes from her screensaver and to the memory stick. He placed it into her Macbook and waited for a few moments. The instillation seemed to take a while and Alison continued to dry her hair with a towel.

"There's a folder on here," Q mumbled under his breath. "Interesting...there's only one file..."

"What is it?" Alison wondered from Q as she took a second to look at the screen. She pushed her own glasses further onto the bridge of her nose and waited for Q to find out the answer to her question. She took another few moments to watch as Q opened up some form of document.

On it were codes scattered all over the page and Alison's brow furrowed. What did they even mean? She had no idea. She didn't know what to think about what she was seeing at that moment in time.

"Q," Alison whispered to him. "What is it?"

Q kept silent, his mouth hanging open for a moment as he adjusted his glasses and leaned in, wondering if he was seeing the right thing.

"They are codes," Q told her. "Codes to destruction..."

Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Nuclear weapons," Q whispered to her. "I should know. I did code them. I put into place the safeguards once MI6 hired me. I made it impossible to find them...well...only me and a few others."

"Could the others have given you this?" Alison wondered from him.

"No," Q shook his head. "They wouldn't have done this. They all work in Q Branch. They couldn't have done this without me finding out. This is something else, Alison. Someone has gotten a hold of these codes. Someone is in control of the most powerful system in the UK...perhaps the world...God knows what could happen."

Alison shook her head before she looked back to the codes and Q jumped up, pulling the flash drive from the Macbook as she remained knelt on the floor.

"I need to go to base," Q told her. "I have to go in and speak to M. We're in trouble, Alison."

"Do you want me to stay here?" Alison wondered from Q and he nodded at her, offering her his hand to pick her up. She wrapped her fingers around his and he hauled her to her feet, pushing her wet hair behind her ears.

"You'll be safe enough here. Just do what you want, but do not go out."

"You sound like my dad," Alison complained and Q didn't know whether to look horrified or smirk with amusement. "I'll be fine, Q. You'll be safe too, won't you?"

"I'll get a cab and head straight to MI6. I'll be back soon enough."

"Are you going out like that?" Alison wondered from him, moving from his hold and grabbing his anorak from the coat stand. She handed it to him and Q shrugged into it, sensing that she had begun to worry again. She was moving about, unable to stand still.

"I'll see you soon," Q told her and began to rush towards the door.

Alison remained stood where she was, watching him before he stopped and nervously clicked his fingers. He turned on his heel and moved back into the room, his hand grasping Alison's waist as he kissed her swiftly.

"I forgot something," Q told her as he patted her waist and she watched him leave the room again.

...

Alison didn't know how long Q had been gone for. Time seemed to become redundant as she sat on Q's sofa and kept flipping through the TV channels. She settled on watching re runs of the Next Top Model series, finding herself interested enough. She'd showered and changed into her pyjamas, her wet hair hanging over her shoulders and naturally drying off.

She kept herself in a tight ball, continuously looking over to the door to wait for Q to return to her. She balanced the remote of her kneecaps, and left her Macbook logged on as it sat on the table. She finally picked it up and decided to check her Facebook page. It had been a while since she'd refreshed it.

She moved her fingers over the touchpad to light the screen up. She clicked onto the internet and began to search, only for her laptop screen to turn blank again.

"Damn battery," she complained, about to get up and find her charger. She decided against it when she suddenly saw a spar of light before white words flashed onto the screen. Alison could feel her blood chill as she rested the machine on her lap and looked at the words.

"Shit...Jesus Christ...shit..." Alison whispered, feeling her blood chill and her pulse race. "How the hell is this happening?"

_All alone? I see the dear quartermaster has left you alone, much like your mother and your father do. Who do you truly have, Alison? _

Alison did her best not to hyperventilate as soon as she read the words. She tried to turn the Macbook off, ferociously pressing the button to no prevail.

_Don't want to reply, Alison? How dull of you. I know that you're there._

Alison kept quiet, looking around. How did he know? It was then when the light to her webcam turned on and she felt herself being to panic. A small box appeared in the bottom left corner to show her face. She could feel the fear radiate through her as she placed her hand over the webcam and she instantly felt the urge to throw up.

_Talk to me, Alison. Come along. I know how much you like to talk. I know how being the centre of attention makes you happy. It wouldn't surprise me if the stress of this causes you to reach for the bottle of vodka? That's what you do, isn't it? You can't handle the strain and so you drink._

Alison's trembling fingers slowly moved over her keyboard as she slowly typed back.

_**Who are you?**_

She waited for the response, wondering how long it would take. Unfortunately it didn't take long at all.

_Is that your only question? How dull, Alison. How very dull. You have nothing to fret about. It isn't you who I want...although it could be you who I need._

Alison slammed the lid to the Macbook down and pushed it away from her to the other side of the sofa. Her hands covered her mouth as she stood up and moved through Q's kitchen, doing her best to keep her distance from the Macbook.

...

Q walked back into his apartment at half past one in the morning. He was tired and drained and wanted nothing more than to spend a night sleeping in his bed. He had left the flash drive with M and had told his boss that he would be back the following morning to begin work on who could have gotten hold of it.

"Q...thank God...you're back..."

He had only just closed the door and Alison had hurled herself into his arms. Q hesitantly placed his own arms around her waist as he felt her body shake against his.

"What is it, Alison?" Q asked from her. "What has happened?"

"It's my Macbook," she told him, pulling back in his hold. "Someone has hacked it. They've been talking to me. They know things...well...my drinking habit when I get stressed. But how? Q, I don't understand."

"Sh, sh, sh," Q urged her. "Everything is alright, Alison. Show me the Macbook."

Alison took hold of his hand and led him to the sofa. She took a deep breath before she sat down and handed him the Macbook. Q lifted the lid up to reveal her screensaver. There was nothing there.

"What?" Alison snapped. "It was there...before...Q...I'm not lying to you..."

"I know you're not," Q promised her. "I believe you, Alison. Do your best to remember what they said."

"I can't," Alison said, running her hands through her hair. "It said I was alone...it turned on my webcam and said something about how it didn't want me...but might need me...I don't know."

"Alright," Q replied. "There's no use in turning hysterical, Alison. It won't help anyone."

"What else can I do?" she wondered from him. "I feel sick thinking about it, Q."

"I will take a look in the morning," Q promised her. "I will find out, Alison. For now we need to rest. You need to try to sleep."

Alison nodded after a moment. She did her best not to sound too worried over this. Q seemed ridiculously calm to Alison. Although she did do her best to be like Q. It was difficult. One moment he was stressed and the next moment he was calm. His emotional range was odd to Alison.

"You can have my room this evening, Alison," Q told her. "Well...this morning..."

"No, you need your bed. I'll be fine. I'm overreacting...probably a bit insane after today..."

"No, you're not," Q replied softly. "Come on. You need to sleep."

Q stood up and offered her his hand again. She took it and stood in front of him, looking down as Q curled a finger under her chin to bring her gaze to his once more.

"Did you call your dad?" he wondered.

"He wasn't answering," she whispered. "Probably with some other girl, I suspect."

Q took a moment to allow a smirk on his face. She said nothing for a few seconds as Q led her to his bedroom. It was immaculate with hardly any decoration to it. The bed was still unmade from the previous night. Q turned on the bedside light and moved his pyjamas from the end of the bed.

"Don't go."

Q was on his way to place his pyjamas in the bathroom before he heard Alison speak to him. He turned around to see her hugging herself and she was staring right at him. She took a few moments before she saw Q's blush.

"No...just...I don't mean that I want to..."

"Oh gosh," Q said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't even think anything like that. Not that I don't want to...I mean...you are lovely and-"

"-I get it," Alison said, a petite smirk forming on her lips as she heard Q's blabbering. "I'm not in the mood anyway."

Alison plonked herself down on the bed and pulled her legs up to rest on the mattress. Cautiously, Q began to remove his tie before he left her in the bed and walked into the bathroom. Not in the mood. Had she done this before?

Q looked in the mirror and shook his head as he heard her words echo back to him. He supposed that she must have been with others before him. She had even admitted that she'd had relationships in the past. Perhaps Q was being naive in his beliefs. He didn't know.

He kept quiet and buttoned up the shirt to his pyjamas before brushing his teeth and slipping his bottoms over his legs.

"Q," Alison whispered once he came back in. "Can I come with you tomorrow?"

Q hung his clothes up in the wardrobe and nodded as he pulled his glasses off of his eyes. He set them down on the bedside table and sat next to Alison on the bed.

"Of course," he assured her. "I know that you don't want to be alone. It's fine, Alison."

"Thanks," she whispered and Q turned the light out. He lay on his back, looking up to the ceiling whilst Alison rested on her side. She closed her eyes and kept quiet, her breathing remained constant and Q knew that she wasn't going to get any sleep any time soon.

Slowly, Q moved his hand out to reach one of hers. Alison instantly gripped onto it and she sighed, doing her best to sleep for the evening.

...

A/N: Thank you to LadyFides, Guest and Sunday for reviewing the previous chapter! If you are reading then please do let me know what you think! It would mean a lot to me!


	19. Chapter 19

Alison couldn't sleep. She was well aware of that fact. She ended up resting on her side away from Q, the quartermaster sleeping soundly next to her. His hand had left hers and he had both of his stuffed under his pillow as he rested on his stomach, his head turned to the side and low snores coming from him.

Occasionally Alison would turn back to look at him, a look of anguish on her face as she did so. She knew that Q and her were in trouble again. She could sense that. She just didn't want anything to happen to him. She cared for Q more than she wanted to admit. The fear of losing him was becoming all too real to her. She didn't know if she could bear it.

She supposed she would have to.

It was only once the clock struck half past four in the morning did she see her iPhone begin to glow. She had placed it by the bedside tale within her reach, preferring to have it near in case of an emergency. She could see the caller ID as her father and she slowly moved out of the bed so not to disturb to Q.

She grabbed the iPhone and unlocked it, pressing the device to her ear and waiting for a response.

"Hello."

"Alison, thank God," James sighed. "I got your voicemail. What has happened? Are you okay?"

"Dad, I'm fine," Alison promised him, feeling her way around Q's flat in the darkness. She reached the sofa, her hands running over the back of it before she sat on the edge, her hand holding her chin. "I'm in Q's flat. He's taking me to Q Branch tomorrow so that I'm not alone."

"I'm catching the first flight back home," James promised her.

"What about your mission in Bulgaria?"

"Bugger that," James scoffed. "That doesn't mean anything to me, Alison. M can send another double oh out here if he feels the need to."

"Good," Alison whispered once she had heard her father. She couldn't pretend that she didn't feel joyful at the news that he was coming home. "I've missed you."

"Missed me or worried about me?" James wondered from her.

Alison uncomfortably shifted around in her seat. She took a moment before she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Both," she replied, playing with the bandage on her thigh. "Are you okay over there?"

"I'm fine," James promised her. "I'll come by Q Branch and find you as soon as I land. Okay?"

"Okay," Alison agreed. "I don't know what this guy wants, dad. I don't know why he's dragging me into this. None of it makes any sense to me."

"You don't know if he is dragging you into this or if this is a game he wants to play with Q."

Alison tossed her head over her shoulder when she heard her dad mention Q. She gulped and shook her head. She didn't know who she would rather it be for. She just knew that they were both involved in each other's business nowadays. It was something that bothered Alison a little too much. It was just something that tended to frighten her. She'd never had someone be so close to her before.

"Well, they have some set of codes," Alison confirmed. "No doubt they could declared bloody World War Three if they wanted to."

"I'll get them back," James promised her. "This isn't Silva. I can tell you that much."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," James responded. "He'd have blown something up by now. I don't doubt that. What I do want to know is why they tormented you."

"Obviously to get to you," Alison mumbled. "It is like Silva all over again, just with someone else. Threatening me gets you onto the case. I don't know why they'd want you on the case."

"I'm one of the few agents with family," James admitted to her. "Anyone can use that against you if they find out. Most agents take different names. It is safer that way. I always thought James Bond was quite inconspicuous anyway."

"Apparently not," Alison muttered. "Look, dad, I don't want to be rude...but...well...I don't want to wake Q up. It is only half past four in the morning."

"Are you sleeping on his sofa?"

"Yes," Alison lied to her father. She didn't need him shooting at Q when he returned. That would do no good. "Be careful, won't you?"

"I'm always careful," James responded. "Now try to get some sleep and I shall see you later this morning."

"Bye, dad."

"Bye, Alison."

Ali hung up the phone and dropped it on the cushion by her side. She lounged back in her seat and dropped her head back against the cushions. She closed her eyes and willed for sleep to find her at that moment in time. Nothing seemed to happen and the next thing she felt was a hand on her shoulder. She lounged her head against the seat and rolled her eyes up to see Q stood by the back of the sofa.

"What are you doing?" he muttered in an incoherent state.

His hair was completely dishevelled around his head and he had managed to put his glasses onto his nose in an askew manner. Alison moved her hand upwards to take hold of Q's on her shoulder.

"My dad called."

"Hm?" he wondered, still half asleep.

"He's coming home. He said he'd meet us at Q Branch later on," Alison informed him and Q nodded once, his pointer finger pushing his glasses further onto his nose. "Why don't you go back to sleep? You look tired, Q."

"What about you?"

"I'm not tired," she lied to him. She gave his hand a solemn squeeze and looked back down to her lap. "I'll be fine here."

Q sighed and released her hand. She thought that he had left her to go back to sleep, but he moved around the sofa and plonked himself down next to her, his overly large pyjamas messed up around his slim figure. He dared to move towards her and keep his arm around her shoulders.

"Q," she protested. "I'm fine here."

"As am I," Q promised her, closing his eyes. "Now be quiet and go to sleep...and please tell me that your father didn't ask about your sleeping location."

Alison allowed a giggle to escape her as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"He did, but you're safe. I told him that I'm sleeping on the sofa."

Q managed to mutter, "No word of a lie," before he allowed sleep to find him once more.

...

The entirety of Q Branch had emptied for their lunch hour and Q had been left alone in the vast white room. He looked behind him and found Alison slumped in his chair, quietly sleeping. He had seen the gazes on his staff throughout the day, but had ignored them. They knew who she was. He suspected they thought that she was in trouble because of her father again.

She had finally fallen to sleep as Q stood by his computer and did his best to change the codes to the nuclear devices. But it seemed someone had placed a safeguard on them, stopping him from doing anything to them.

He looked at the flash drive that was causing so much hassle and he wondered what would happen if he took it outside and threw it in the Thames. He didn't doubt that would cause more hassle. But he did think it would be worth it.

He would willingly do anything to stop the madness he found himself in.

"Q."

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around as he heard the voice. He hadn't even seen Bond enter the Division, nor had he made his presence known. James was bent down by Alison, watching her as she slept and his hand pushed her hair over her shoulder and behind her ear.

"007," Q greeted in a quiet tone. "She's been sleeping for a while now. I think exhaustion has taken hold of her. It wouldn't surprise me. She didn't sleep last night."

"Have you found anything?"

"Nothing whatsoever," Q complained. "Someone doesn't want to be found, Bond. And when they do, then they will tell us about it."

"I see," James said and then moved his hand to Alison's shoulder, shaking her gently to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open and she seemed startled for a few moments. Her body shook and she looked across to her father.

"You look terrible," James taunted her and she rolled her eyes, her lips tugging upwards as she hit him around the shoulder.

"Shut up," she demanded him. "When did you get here?"

James straightened out the blue tie he wore and undid the button to his grey suit jacket. He stood up tall and Alison stood too. James hugged her tightly for a few moments and she pulled back as he answered her question;

"An hour ago. Traffic was horrendous getting here."

"I don't doubt it," Alison replied to him. "So what's happening now? Are we going back home?"

"I'm afraid not," James responded to her. "I'm going to see M. No doubt he will give me something to do about this case. I don't know what, mind you. There's been no lead throughout this."

"No, there hasn't," Q agreed. "I'm doing my best. Normally my best ends up being good enough. Don't doubt that."

"I'm not," Bond replied. "I am beginning to wonder about the size of your ego, however."

"I doubt it is as big as yours," Q responded in a mutter.

"Careful, Q," James warned him. "I still have the personalised gun you gave me."

Q rolled his eyes as he heard Bond and then looked back to Alison. She wondered if this was how it was always going to be; her father and Q arguing. She didn't doubt that they'd get bored of it eventually. If they didn't then she would.

"The second one," clarified Q. "And did you bring the equipment from this mission back?"

"You don't want to know the answer to that," James promised him and then turned his attention back to Alison. "I'm going to go and speak with M. You stay here and keep him out of trouble."

"Hypocritical," Q muttered, turning back to type on his keyboard.

"Go and see M," Alison urged him. "Before you two end up yelling at each other. I don't doubt that will happen."

"No," Q responded. "I have much better restraint than Bond."

"Okay, okay," Alison rolled her eyes and her father ruffled her hair before he walked off, an arrogant smirk still in play on his face as he went.

Alison took a few moments before she dug around in her satchel and found her iPhone. She saw that she had one message and she unlocked her phone, reading the text before she looked at the back of Q's head.

_Don't tell anyone about what you're about to see. If you do...well..the consequences won't be lovely._

Alison looked at the green box as she read the message and she gulped. She took a seat in the chair before she gripped the sides with her hands, her knuckles turning white as she waited for the next message.

And then the photo came.

Alison's grip on the chair continued and she did her best to hide her gasp of fear. She looked at the photo and closed her eyes after a moment, shaking her head back and forth. She remained thankful that Q continued to stare at his computer screen, far too interested in that then in her.

_**What do you want?**_

_I want you to keep that big mouth of yours closed. Do you understand me? I also want you to do exactly as I say. That shouldn't be too hard, should it?_

_**What?**_

_Firstly, you need to escape the gaze of your father and Q. Then I need you to get out of MI6 and get in a cab. You'll wait there for further instructions._

_**And if I don't?**_

_Then mummy will know about it._

Alison dropped her phone to her lap, the image of her mother playing in her mind. Her mother tied to a chair. Her mother gagged and bound, blood trickling down her face. She didn't get along with her mother, but she wasn't going to let this happen to her. She loved her. She was her mother.

What other choice did Alison have but to do as he wanted her to? There was no other option. She had to escape Q's eye and then run as fast as she could.

"Q," Alison suddenly spoke, slipping her iPhone into her long cardigan pocket. She picked her satchel up and the quartermaster looked back to her. "Do you think I can get some fresh air? It's stuffy in here and I feel as though I have a headache coming on."

Q nodded after a second and shrugged back into his brown cardigan. He took a second to glance back at Alison before he saw her hand shaking as she ran it through her hair. He took hold of the shaking limb before she could rest it by her side again.

"You're shaking," he commented and Alison looked down and forced a small shaky laugh to escape her.

"Caffeine," she lied to him. "How many cups of coffee have you made me this morning?"

"That's why you should drink tea," Q replied and released her hand, logging out of his laptop and taking the memory stick in his pocket.

"I'll remember," Alison promised him and he led her out of the division. They stood on the streets, looking around at the hustle and bustle which surrounded them. Alison turned her gaze to the side, looking for the best escape route. There seemed to be more cabs on the right than anywhere else.

"Are you feeling better?" Q asked as she adjusted her satchel on her shoulder and smiled wanly at him.

"Much," she lied to him.

She didn't want to do this to him. She didn't want to lie to him or her father. What other choice did she have? This was her mother. Perhaps she could tell Q and he could track her. But would he let her go? Not without a fight, she assumed.

"Q...I...I need you to do me a favour," she told him.

"If it is to not argue with your father then no can do," he said. "I have tried. It isn't as easy as you think."

"No," Alison replied. "I need you to promise me that...well...I know you will try to stop me. I am well aware of that."

She rested her hands on his shoulders as she felt herself well up. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted to stay where she knew she was safe. But her mother was in trouble. She'd find her as soon as possible. It was the only way.

"What are you talking about?" Q replied; a wavering smile on his face as he looked to her.

She gulped loudly and shook her head, sniffing as she did so.

"They have my mother," Alison whispered. "Someone text me...they have her tied to a chair. I have to go to her. Alone. They'll kill her if I don't, Q. You have to listen to me."

Blinking profusely, Q shook his head and then nodded, his mouth drying up as he heard her. He placed his hands to her waist, his grip tight as he held onto her.

"I do believe you," he replied solemnly. "You know that I do, but I can't let you go. I'll find your mother. I can locate her."

"They'll find out," Alison replied, looking around as paranoia settled in. "They will find out, Q. You cannot do anything...just...keep tracking me...I'll have my iPhone."

"Are you foolish?" Q hissed, anger rising in his voice as he looked at her and saw her eyes widen, some form of hurt in them. "Do you honestly think that I am going to let you leave, Alison? Let you run off to your death."

"My mother-"

"-I know you are worried for her," Q said. "But running away will not help. Trust me. You need to stay with us. You need to stay where it is safe."

"No," Alison responded. "You need to understand me, Q. Please...I have to go...Q..."

"No," Q challenged her as she tried to move from him. He kept his hand around her wrist. "No. I know that you are hurting. I honestly do, Alison. But this is not the answer. Listen to me...believe me..."

"I want to," Alison responded. "But I've seen what he sent. I need to go, Q. Tell my dad-"

"-That you're going to get yourself killed?" Q interrupted. "Tell him that you're on some road to self destruction? And then what? Let him shoot me for letting you go? For being so stupid as to bring you out here?"

"I know that I lied to get you out here-"

"-And that bloody well hurts," Q responded. "You could have told me about this downstairs and inside, Alison. You could have told me...and now...here we are...arguing on the pavement like a pair of lunatics."

"We won't be arguing for much longer." She promised him, her voice low and weak. She wanted to get out now. "Just...I'm sorry, Q. I need to do this."

Alison slipped from his grip, but Q managed to grab her other wrist, hauling her back to him. She knew that Q wasn't as weak as he looked. He was slightly stronger than she had initially thought. It was with haste that she pressed her lips against his, knowing that it would confuse him.

She managed to deepen the kiss, Q's grip slackening as it took him by shock. She wanted to stay there for much longer, keeping her mouth against Q's as she took charge of the kiss and slowly changed to slowly peck him on the lips. He had his eyes closed and his face was scrunched up. Alison's orbs opened as she slowly pulled her lips from his and then turned on her heel, running away from him.

She ran even as she heard him call back to her, demanding for her to stop. She pushed past people, not bothering to apologise as she went.

Q could see her blonde hair swaying behind her as she ran. The intent in her stride was there, even if she did still have a bandage around her leg.

"Alison!" Q roared her name. "Alison! Please!"

It was only when he turned the corner and saw that she was out of sight did he double over and catch his breath, swearing to himself as he closed his eyes and cursed himself for letting her go.

...

A/N: Thank you to Sunday, PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes and LadyFides for reviewing the previous chapter! I hope you enjoyed this one and there is much more to come! Happy Friday and have a good weekend!


	20. Chapter 20

"You let her go!"

The roar from 007 was enough to cause Q to quake. He was stood over his laptop, doing his best to track Alison, but it seemed someone else had the same idea. One moment she was pinpointed as being in Australia, and the next she was in Kentucky. Someone didn't want her to be found.

Q did his best not to allow his anger to get the best of him. He didn't know how much more he could take of this madness. He should have stopped her. He should have grabbed her and held her, keeping up his defences as she pleaded and hit at him. He shouldn't have let her go by kissing him.

He felt foolish.

"I didn't mean to!" Q snapped back, his voice agitated. "Your daughter has a mind of her own, Bond. We cannot doubt that theory. She was the one who pushed past me and ran away. It has nothing to do with me. I told her to come back inside."

"You should have tried bloody harder!" Bond snarled, his hands raking through his hair. "What do you expect me to do now?"

"I'm doing my best to locate her," Q promised him. "But I'm working against someone who is equally as good as me. They're keeping tabs on her location and changing it. They have hacked into the tracking device. One moment Alison is in Qatar and the next she is Russia."

James rolled his eyes and ground his teeth together. "Not like that is even possible considering she can't have gotten any further than bloody Birmingham!"

Q could sense Bond's anger and he knew that his co-workers were also feeling the heat. They were all working as hard as they could to retrieve and change the codes which had been stolen, as well as trying to find Alison. Q thought back to when he had seen her blonde hair flowing behind her. He had watched her rush away from him.

He had watched her disappear and he couldn't do anything about it. He felt useless. He felt powerless.

"I'm going to find her," James spoke.

"By what means?" wondered Q. "We have no idea where she is. You running around London won't help to bring her back."

"And standing at a computer desk will?" James responded; his tone harsh and warning Q to keep his mouth closed. The quartermaster inhaled a sharp breath and nodded, realising that Bond could do nothing in Q Branch. He wasn't skilled enough to help trace her.

That was Q's job.

"Keep your earpiece on you," Q demanded him. "Do you have your gun still?"

"Yes," James said. "Then you had best hope I find Alison soon or you're out of luck, Q."

"We will," Q promised, doing his best to keep Bond optimistic.

Not an easy feat by far.

...

Alison sat in the back of a cab, her chest heaving after escaping Q and his persistent yells at her. She closed her eyes as the driver asked her where to go. She didn't even know.

"Don't have all day, luv'," he informed Alison and she nodded at him, quite sure that he didn't have all day to wait for her. She took another moment to look at her phone before it showed a new message.

_Good girl. Mummy is at 38 Mapleton Road._

"38 Mapleton Road," Alison called out to the man, fully hoping that her mother was waiting for her there. The driver nodded and tapped the address into his SatNav whilst Alison leant back on the seat, watching the passing sights as she saw her phone begin to vibrate.

It was Q.

She rejected his call and didn't even bother to answer his multiple texts. She could feel her throat clench as she thought of the look of hurt on his face. The look of hurt when she told him that she'd had to lie to him. She could only hope that he would understand. He had to understand why she had done it. She longed for him to.

It was twenty minutes later when she saw her phone light up again. Her father was calling. She looked down and pressed the reject button again, a tear now falling down her face. She didn't know how much more she could handle. She needed to save her mum. She would do that and everything would be fine. Everything would be as it once was.

Alison didn't doubt it.

She couldn't doubt it.

She continuously ignored her father's and Q's constant attempts to call her. She knew that they'd try to talk her out of what she was about to do. She only feared that they _could _talk her out of it. Alison was scared, of course she was. It would be foolish not to be. She knew that they'd make it sound easy to stop her quest. She was probably naive enough to believe them too. But she couldn't. Not this time.

"Here you go, darlin'," the man spoke to her. "Fifteen pound seventy, if you please."

Alison dug around in her purse and handed him a twenty pound note.

"Keep the change," she said, simply eager to get out of the cab. The shrewd student in her cursed.

"Thanks, lovely," he replied and tipped his cap her way as she looked to the house in front of her. It was simple, stood in a line of terraces. Net curtains blocked the view inside, but the windows were clean and the paved walkway was clean of weeds. Did she have the right address?

Just as she went to pull her phone out again she saw a new message.

_The key is under the frog statue. Let yourself in._

Alison's shaking hands dropped her phone into her satchel before she opened the gate; the squeaking sound it made sent chills down her spine. She slowly walked up the path and noted the stone frog by the door. She bent down and found the key in question. It was then when she looked behind her, wondering if anyone was watching.

She prayed that they were.

Slowly, Alison stood back up to full height and knew that she had no other option but to go in. Her mother was inside. Her own mother.

The thought kept Alison going as she placed the key into the lock and turned it. The clicking sound of the mechanism caused her to close her eyes and rest her hand on the door handle. She pushed it down, allowing the door to move in front of her. She looked down the hallway, seeing nothing whatsoever in her view.

Alison took another step over the threshold and looked up the wooden stairs to the left of her. The house was empty. There was nothing inside of it whatsoever. She left the door open behind her as she walked down the corridor and towards the kitchen. She pushed that door open and felt her stomach churn.

"How good of you to come, Alison. I've just put the kettle on."

Alison stammered as the tall man turned around to look at her, fiddling with the button of his suit jacket before he noted the open door behind her.

"Tut, tut," he muttered. "You shouldn't leave doors open, Ali. Honestly, I know your mother dragged you up, but surely you have some common sense."

The man swept past her towards the door as she remained in shock. She looked around, wondering if there was anything she could use to defend herself. She could manage to knock him out with the kettle. She was sure of that. She also knew that there was the possibility of scalding water hitting her.

She grabbed the second best thing and took hold of the coffee cup that sat next to the kettle. She held it behind her back and waited for the sound of the lock.

"So, Alison," he said as he walked back to her and she hid behind the door, ready to pounce. "I am very impressed with you."

She jumped as soon as she heard of him. She should have known that she wasn't quick enough. He took hold of her wrist and twisted it behind her back, the cup dropping from her hand as he pushed her forwards, hitting the counter. She squealed as she bent at the waist and he pressed her cheek against the cold marble.

"Now, now, Alison," he whispered to her. "That wasn't a nice greeting, was it? And I thought we were going to get along splendidly."

"Where is she?" Alison snapped as his hands pushed her hair from her face and he kept his weight against hers. "Where is my mum? What did you do to her, asshole?"

He pressed his hand further against her head then, anger becoming apparent in his movements.

"You do have a filthy mouth on you," he told her. "It is hardly a redeeming quality. I did listen in when your mum phoned you to tell you of our separation. I must admit that I was hurt. I was a doting stepfather, Alison. You know that."

"You're a dick," Alison assured him and she felt him let off for a moment.

She began to stand only to be whirled around and thrown to the floor. She began to crawl, doing her best to get to the doorway. He seemed to have other ideas. He knelt on the floor and grabbed hold of her hair, hauling her up by her golden curls. She screamed in pain as he grabbed her wrists and kept her against the white washed wall.

"I suggest you keep your mouth closed if you want to see mummy again," he whispered soothingly. "I don't want to kill her. I don't even want to kill you. I just need your daddy to do something for me."

"Why?" Alison wondered. "What do you want, Carl?"

"You'll soon find out, Ali. You'll soon find out."

...

Q wondered if he would ever forget the look on her face when the live stream came in. He wondered if, even if they made out of this alive, he would be able to look at her in the same way. He didn't know. He just longed for this hell to be over with.

He was stood at his desk, ferociously typing. He had been alone for two hours, everyone else managing to slip away and go home. Q couldn't pretend that he wasn't jealous. He rather wanted to go home, but he refused to go until he had Alison coming back with him.

Perhaps Bond might have something to say about that. Q wasn't too sure.

It was the small message in the bottom corner of his laptop that informed him he had one new email. Hesitantly, Q clicked onto it and looked at the link. He didn't normally open things he didn't know. But he knew this had to be different. It had come at a coincidental time.

Slowly, Q moved to open the link, a video web popping open as Q's webcam turned itself on.

The sight on the screen horrified Q more than he cared to admit. He looked on, squinting as he wondered if it could be possible.

"Quartermaster. How lovely of you to join us."

Q pushed his glasses further onto his nose as he did his best to track the link and watch the sight in front of him.

"Nothing to say, Q? Not even to your little student here?"

"I doubt you're interested in my words," Q said, watching the dark room and the scene unfold in front of him.

He could see that the room was dark. There was a brick wall in the background and a small lamp hanging from a wooden post. That was it. A chair was in the middle of his screen; Alison tied to it with her eyes looking down. Q could see that blood had trickled down her nose, drying on her pale skin. Her hair was a mess behind her and a bruise formed on her left cheek.

She was doing her best to be brave, Q could tell that much. She had her eyes focused on her lap and she was biting her bottom lip.

"You'd be right," the man replied.

Q couldn't see him. He was hidden from sight. No doubt he was behind the laptop he was sat at.

"However, I don't have all day. Where is Bond? I haven't heard his dulcet tones?"

"He has gone searching," Q replied.

"Looking around London for her; is he?" the man replied. "You can stop trying to track her. I'm rerouting everything you do."

Q cursed in his head and looked back to Alison.

"What do you want?"

"The keys," the man responded. "I have the codes. That is one step. I need the keys."

Q thought of the keys he was asking for and his brow furrowed. Missile keys. Why did he need them? There were two keys in order to stop just one person from declaring nuclear war or setting off a bomb.

"Why?" wondered Q. "Why do you need them?"

The man sighed and Alison looked up as he began to pace the length of the room, keeping hidden behind the laptop's camera.

"It seems MI6 has been watching one of our arms dealers," he informed Q. "A man in Germany. Yet, they seem to be lurking under the water...in a submarine courtesy of the government. Our man has a sub too. It is his intent to trade nuclear weapons. It is clear that MI6's sub already has a weapon. They're waiting to blow the sub up as soon as they get wind of the shipment."

Q shook his head with haste.

"The keys should be with them in Germany. They-"

"-Wrong," he interrupted. "They are about to be transported to Germany tomorrow morning. I'd have them intercepted and brought to me by Bond."

"Impossible," Q replied. "I don't know where they are or how to get a hold of them. The men on the submarine will be waiting for them."

"Looks like they will be out of luck," the drawl replied. "Tell Bond he has twenty four hours or his lovely daughter will end up on the same path as her mother."

"And what path is that?" Q dared to ask, fearing the answer he was about to receive.

It was only when the camera moved from Alison did he see the body on the floor. Blood seeped out from the corpse and Q could vaguely make out the face of Maria Holmes.

"Jesus Christ," Q whispered.

"She tried to escape," the man replied. "Fortunately, Alison hasn't been too much bother for me. I hope it can stay that way."

The camera moved back onto Alison and the girl looked away again, unable to know that Q was watching her on the other side.

"You have the codes to all the nuclear weapons in NATO countries," Q hissed. "Why do you need these keys?"

"I don't want to start a nuclear war," the man chuckled back. "I want to stop MI6 from using theirs. Having the codes is a deterrent. If I don't get the keys then...well...let's see what the codes do."

"But you're transporting nuclear weapons. What do you intend to do with them?"

"That is not my business. I am doing my job. Now, I have quite a bit of time so do you have anything you want to say to Alison? She has been missing you dearly. Her darling quartermaster. I do believe you might have tamed her. I've never seen her look so sad before."

Q gulped, wondering what he could say to her. He didn't have the chance for the man had moved to stand by Alison, keeping his face out of view as his hands rested on her shoulders.

"Look him in the eye," he demanded her. "Look him in the eye and tell him how much you care. Go on, Ali. We both know you can do it."

She kept quiet, her throat raw and dry. She didn't think she could speak. She did managed to move her red rimmed eyes upwards and Q's breath caught in his throat as he saw her. Neither of them said anything, realising that there were no comforting words for their situation.

"Nothing?" the man checked, slapping Alison across the back of her head. "How boring of you two."

He moved back to the laptop and said his final words;

"Do tell Bond to hurry up. We don't have all day."

"How will he know where to find you?"

"I'll see to it that he knows," he promised simply. "Now, get to work, Q. You have your girlfriend to save."

...

A/N: I don't mean to leave it on these cliffhangers! Anyway, thanks to anyone reading and do review for me!


	21. Chapter 21

"Don't touch her!" Alison snapped as soon as she saw Carl bend down to wipe her mother's hair from her face. Alison struggled against her restraints as she watched him. He was knelt by her side and Alison couldn't begin to comprehend what had just happened.

But the more she watched, the more she understood. He had killed her mother. He had killed her with such ease that it disgusted Alison. She looked down at her mother's body and thought of the sound that had echoed through the basement.

Maria had managed to loosen the ropes around her wrist whilst Carl was upstairs and hidden away, making sure he had secured the premise. Maria had rushed to her daughter, helping Alison out of her bonds before she grabbed her hand.

Her mother had ran her hands down Alison's cheeks, telling her how sorry she was, telling her how much she loved her and regretted so much in life. Alison had done her best to silence her mother and urge her to move up the stairs.

She had listened, grabbing Alison's hand and moving to the steps. It was then when the door opened. The hidden door in the cupboard under the stairs. The light streamed down and Carl's shadow blocked the rest of it from hitting them. Maria had stood in front of her daughter and backed into the corner.

She had been the one to charge at Carl, doing her best to create a distraction for Alison to leave. But Carl was stronger and quicker than they were. The cracking sound caused Alison to stop in her tracks. She watched her mother's body slump down the wall, blood trickling from her head. Carl had moved then, grabbing Alison and hauling her back to her seat. He had hit her mother against the wall with such force that he had killed her.

"Your mother defied me, Alison," Carl reminded her. "I told her to be good. I didn't mean to kill her. Believe me; I am not happy about this. She was a...well...not a lovely woman...but she had her uses..."

"No," Alison snapped. "Just stay away from her. Leave her alone."

"She is dead, Alison," Carl responded. "It doesn't matter anymore."

He stood up tall and looked back to the twenty year old with his hands on his hips. A small smile escaped him along with a sigh. "Let us just hope that your beloved quartermaster delivers the message to Bond. He keeps trying to track me. It is cute to watch."

Alison tried to push Q from her mind after she had heard the mention of him. She needed to focus and not think of what would happen if she never saw Q again.

"This was all part of your plan, wasn't it?" Alison checked with Carl. "You never loved my mum...you...you wanted the keys..."

"And what better way to get them than by kidnapping the daughter of 007," Carl said. "I admit, Alison, you did come without a fight. I had expected a bit more from you. MI6 has been plotting this interception for as long as we have been planning the exchange. I need it to stop."

"Why?" Alison wondered.

"Because I get to keep my life and receive a lovely pay cheque for doing my job," Carl told her, crouching down in front of her. He rested his hands on her thighs, looking at her laddered tights before he slowly ripped them down her thigh. Alison squirmed and did her best not to allow a strangled sob to leave her mouth.

She didn't know what he was planning, but she knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.

He slowly undid the bandage which had been wrapped around her scarred thigh. Alison whimpered as she felt his cold fingers against her flushed skin. He finally dropped the bandage to the floor and ran his hand over her skin. She couldn't feel it due to having no nerves in the burnt area, but just the thought of him touching her made her feel sick.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Carl whispered to her. "The feeling of being defenceless. Is that how it felt when you saw your leg? To know that your father did that to you...him..."

"He did not do this to me," Alison replied. "Silva did that to me. He was the one who took me to Scotland. I trust you know about that."

"I know," Carl promised her. "I know that it was no accident. Yet it was your father who placed you in that position."

"What are you trying to do?" Alison wondered. "Do you want to turn me against my dad? It won't work. I know who he is and I know what he does. He will kill you for this. You know that, don't you? You know that he won't let you get away with this."

A dark chuckle elicited through his lips as he moved his hand to her cheek and ran his thumb over the bruise forming there. She did her best to move away from him, but failed miserably.

"He won't," Carl promised. "He's James Bond, I know that...but...you...you're his daughter. You're his only family, and he's now your only family. How very sad for you. He won't risk your life, especially when Q tells him how broken you look."

"I'm not," Alison replied, her voice trembling. "Do you think that I can't handle this? Do you think that I will give in? That I will let my dad give in?"

"So much faith in daddy dearest," Carl rolled his eyes before he dug into his pocket.

He dug out a switchblade and Alison gulped. She didn't quiver, nor did she show how scared she was. She couldn't. She wouldn't let him see her in fear. She wanted nothing more than to run away from that basement.

"Shall we test that faith, Ali?" he wondered, the glowing edge of the blade catching the light.

Alison kept silent and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to come to her.

...

"We cannot jeopardise this mission, Bond."

M's stern voice rang through Q Branch. James had returned as soon as Q had told him what he had seen. Bond's hands had clenched into balls by his sides and his glare was enough to burn through anything. Anything except M, so it would seem.

"She is my daughter," James snarled back. "Can you not give me a decoy? I need to get her back. I have to save her. Why can you not understand that?"

"This mission has been planned for months. I have 005 over there seeing to it," M responded and Q pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. He pulled even more at his mussed up hair before he looked to the screen of his laptop.

He was having no luck whatsoever in this case. But this wasn't just a case to Q. This was Alison's life at stake.

"And he has the codes to all of the NATO nuclear weapons," Q snapped back, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he pushed his glasses upwards. "Do you think that he won't use them? We have no other option but to do as he says. We need to send a decoy. He'll see straight through it, of course...unless..."

"Unless what?" M wondered and Q shook his head.

It was preposterous. It was highly technical. It was everything that Q could do.

"We clone the keys," Q said. "All I need is the method used to make them. I can find it on the database. We pretend that the original keys have been stolen, but we keep them on track to Germany."

"Can you clone them?" M wondered from Q.

"I assume there are a certain few who can," nodded Q. "Thankfully I should be one of them. I can make them accurate...from the weight of them...to the exact electronics inside of them..."

"Can this work?" Bond asked M.

They had to try, Bond knew that. M's opinion didn't matter, but it would make matters easier if he did consent to what was being asked.

"Is there another option?" M wondered. "We keep a track of Bond and we apprehend this man as soon as we can. Do we know anything about him?"

"He didn't show his face on the screen," Q replied. "I couldn't track anything about him either. I have no idea who he is and Alison said nothing about him. You can try to track Bond, but I doubt it will work. He is rerouting any attempt I make to track Alison's iPhone. He's good."

"Then we send agents to cover," M responded. "He has the codes to start nuclear war. I want his brought in as soon as possible."

"He'll know if there are agents," Bond replied with a shake of his head. "He'll be able to track their movements. If he knows then what do you think he will do to my daughter?"

"You want to go into this alone? Do you think that he will be alone?" M snapped back. "This is madness, Bond. We have no idea who he is or who he is working for."

"I am doing this for my daughter," Bond quickly repeated. "I can cope alone. I always have done, and I always will do."

M shook his head and arched his brow. There was no use in arguing with Bond. There never was any point. The man was as stubborn as a bull.

"How long will it take to make the key?" wondered M and Q began to search for the design on his laptop.

"Four or five hours if I call in R and have all of the equipment I need," Q responded. "That gives us a minimum of eighteen hours to save Alison."

"Get on it," M said. "I need to go to speak with the PM. He wants to know how the codes fell into this man's hands. What do you suggest I tell him?"

"Tell him what you want," Bond responded. "I do not know what happened. No one knows what has happened, including the PM."

M shook his head and turned on his heel, moving away from the scene and towards what he couldn't help but think was his own execution.

...

Alison didn't know how long she had been on the floor. She had closed her eyes and urged for the searing pain to leave her. Occasionally she would look down her body and vaguely see the blood that seeped out from her upper thighs. She couldn't feel the pain in her burnt leg, but she could feel it from her other leg. She was struggling to believe that his knife had pierced so much of her skin.

He had left her downstairs and all alone in the dark. The lights had been turned off and all that Alison could hear was the sound of her erratic breathing. She felt as though she was in some form of horror film. She had managed to shrug her jacket from her shoulders and she pressed it against the open wound, trying to stop it from bleeding too much.

It wasn't until much later when Carl came back and began to stitch the wound back up. Alison leant against the wall, her hands bound and her ankles tied together as she watched him sew the wound.

"Why did you do it?" Alison wondered from him.

He looked at her flushed face and her messy hair as she glared at him. He shrugged and Alison groaned at the pain of the stitches moving into her pale skin. She winced as he finished and she looked down at the unsightly job he had done.

"I don't want to break you too much, Alison. Leaving you to bleed to death would be no fun. Your dad wouldn't have any reason to deal with my request then...but...well...he needs to see how broken you are for when we call him. It will most certainly make him do my bidding."

Alison remained silent then, focusing past the pain she was feeling at that moment in time.

...

Q was left alone to make the decoy keys. He had called R to come in and she had said that she would be there as soon as possible. Bond had gone off on a wander, unable to concentrate on what Q was doing. He had taken his earpiece out of his ear and so had no means of communication to the quartermaster.

It wasn't until Q was alone when he saw another email pop up. He opened it with haste and saw the link. The webcam turned on again and Q saw Alison one more time. He looked on with horror as he saw her upper thighs. He struggled to believe the sight, almost feeling sick at the dried blood that had stained her dress and legs.

"Is Bond still not with you?" the voice on the other end asked.

"No," Q snapped. "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing that is unfixable," he promised, walking behind Alison, only his legs on show. Alison glowered back across to him before she looked to the laptop screen. Q's face was scrunched up and his eyes looked as though they were forming bags. "I had to make Bond see that this is not a joking matter."

"It isn't," Q said. "You kidnapped his daughter. Is that not enough?"

"No," Carl responded. "I don't think it is. She's fine. You don't need to worry. She's very quiet at the moment in time."

"You're torturing her," Q whispered, his tone almost breaking.

Alison thought of what he had said to her. If she dared to yell out where she was then he'd see to it that she lost the feeling in her other leg. She gulped and took a moment to think. None of it mattered to her anymore.

She had lost her mother. Carl could hurt her father. He could hurt Q if he wanted to. The feeling of her other leg didn't matter. She had to stop him from doing the wrong thing. She had to do the right thing, even if it meant sacrificing herself. He could torture her as much as he wanted to. He could drag her to another safe house and slowly kill her there.

At least she had tried.

"Q," Alison called his name as Carl strode to the other side of the room. She did her best to remember the address Carl had told her. "I'm at 38 Mapleton Road! He killed my mum...it's Carl, Q! He's the one-"

Alison was cut off as Carl bent down and placed his hand over her mouth. Q began to alert the services, hoping that they could get to her in time. The line went dead and Q was left alone in his Division.

Carl dropped the laptop to the floor, crushing it before he began to unbind Alison from the chair.

"Stupid move, Alison," Carl hissed at her. "Do you think they will get here in time? Do you think that he can save you?"

"You cannot do this," Alison replied. "I had to try...I had to stop..."

"Oh no, Alison," Carl shook his head, throwing the girl over his shoulder before he began to move from the basement. "You've been a bad girl, Alison. Do you know what happens to bad girls, Ali?"

She thrashed around on his shoulder as he moved down the hall and took a door to the left. Alison looked up, seeing the familiar sight of a garage. A bleeping noise came from in front of her and the sound of a trunk opening rang in her ears. She felt a cold breeze on her skin, sensing that she had lost her shoes and her tights had gone, leaving her in a simple dress.

"They're punished, Alison." Carl told her, dropping her body into the trunk.

She began to scream before she felt his hand over her mouth and he reached for the tape in the corner of the enclosed space. He pulled a piece off and wrapped it over her mouth. She continued to squeal and move before she felt Carl's hand on her throat, slowly strangling her until she couldn't scream any longer.

"Now be quiet," Carl said. "I will deal with you later on."

Alison tried to move but found herself trapped as the lid closed on her and she was shrouded in darkness once again.

...

A/N: For some reason I can't stop with the cliff hangers! Anyway, thank you to backseatgoodbyeislife, LadyFides, Sunday, AbigailTBird1998 and gillyhelbee for reviewing! I do hope you will let me know what you think so far!


	22. Chapter 22

Q worked with haste as R stood next to him, also typing ferociously on her laptop. She was doing her best not to allow her hands to tremble. She had never had a girl's life in her hands before. She had seen the end of the video from the back of Q Branch. She stood there with her coat in her hands before Q turned around and demanded for her to get to work.

Bond had already been notified of her address and was heading there at that moment in time. He was in the classic Aston Martin he had purchased after Silva had blown his up. He was driving with haste, doing his best to get to the house before Alison was taken from it.

"Sir," R dared to speak as Q looked up to her. "I think I have something."

Ever since Alison had told Q the address he had located all of the possible cameras near it and had kept his eye trained on them. He'd had R looking up information about Carl Daniels. It seemed that he was a former agent turned rogue many years ago.

"What is it?" Q wondered as she pointed to the camera she was looking at. She had zoomed in on his face and had followed the cameras for as far as they would permit. She lost location after seeing a sign for the North.

"He's heading north and away from London," R informed her boss. "The cameras have stopped. I don't know where he is going now."

Q pressed the button on his speaker, hoping that Bond had remembered to put in his earpiece he left lying around in his beloved car.

"Bond? Are you there?" Q wondered from him.

"What is it?" Bond responded. "She's not here, Q. She's not at the address."

"He has her and is heading north. There's no sign of her in the car, but it is definitely Carl. He probably has her in the boot of the car. I don't know, but I do know that he is going north."

"I'm on it," Bond said, the squealing of tyres echoing around Q Branch. "Are you still working on the keys?"

Q looked behind him to the desk with the designs on them. He couldn't track Alison and work on the keys at the same time. He took a moment to clean his glasses with his sleeve before he coughed awkwardly.

"I am trying to keep my eye on Carl," he informed Bond. "I cannot do two things at once."

"We still might need the keys," James responded. "We haven't caught him yet. The decoy is necessary, Q."

And then the line went dead. Q cursed under his breath before R looked over to him. She took a moment before she spoke, her voice tired and quiet;

"Do you want me to work on the keys?" she asked him. "Or would you prefer for me to track Miss Holmes?"

No. Q wanted to be the one to track Alison. He could hardly admit that to R. His personal life was nothing to do with his work life. Yet they always seemed to entwine whenever Alison was around.

"I have a degree in Mathematics and a PhD in Engineering," R responded to Q, straightening out the shirt she wore over her jeans. "I can manage with the keys if that is what you are worried about."

"I do not doubt it," Q assured her. "Yes...I think I would prefer to stay here...just in case Bond needs me again..."

"You don't need to make excuses up," R promised him, wandering to the desk behind to look at the designs. "I know that you're concerned about his daughter. The entire division know that you two have a thing going on."

Q's brow furrowed as he heard that and he caught Carl's face on his monitor. He ground his teeth together before he spoke, his tone clipped and taut;

"Alison and I are friends," he said, hoping that he was lying. "She's been through a lot recently; a lot that I cannot begin to comprehend."

"We know that you took her on a day trip, and Steve said he saw you two kissing outside earlier on," R responded. "You are allowed to have a relationship, you know. It makes you seem normal."

Q scoffed at the accusation and began to type again, a yawn escaping his plump lips as he did so.

"Remind me to put Steve on bin duty," Q mumbled.

R smirked and turned her head over her shoulder to watch as Q remained stood at his work station, his mind going into overdrive as he did his best to save Bond's daughter. Her lips pulled up and she shook her head, thinking about the money she had lost in the bet over whether Bond's daughter was with Q.

...

"Just stop it!" Alison shrieked as soon as she felt the floor on her body. He had pulled her from the car and pushed her into an unfamiliar kitchen. It looked similar to the previous one, but Alison couldn't be too sure whether or not it was. He had pulled the tape from her mouth and backhanded her across the face.

"You got yourself into this mess, Ali," Carl snarled at her. "You wasted my time. I had to drive out of the city. Do you think that bodes well for when I need to meet with your dad?"

"He won't give you what you want," Alison promised him, trying to wriggle free of the bonds on her wrists. "I don't care anymore...he won't give you the keys..."

"You think so?" Carl wondered with amusement. "Does your life mean little to him?"

"No," Alison replied. "He just knows what the right thing to do is...you can't get away with this...dad..."

"You still see him as your knight in shining armour?" Carl wondered, bending down to sneer in her face. He kept his hand holding her hair, pulling it from her scalp. She placed her own hand around his wrist, trying to loosen some of the pressure he had on her. "Do you think he will save you now?"

"Yes," Alison said, refusing to lose faith in her father. "You said that you won't kill me if he does what you want."

"Your life means little to me, Alison," he promised her. "I'm not a man known for keeping promises."

He dropped her to the ground again, watching as she helplessly began to wriggle forwards, doing her best to escape him. He placed his polished shoe onto her back, stopping her from going anywhere before he glowered down at her.

"Believe me, my promises mean as little to me as you do, you little brat."

"Go and screw yourself," Alison snapped and she felt his foot make contact with her side. She groaned loudly and rolled onto her back, panting for breath as she felt pain in her ribs. She knew that they were going to be bruised.

"You really cannot hold that tongue of yours, can you?" Carl mumbled and he wandered over to the kettle that sat on the side. "Now, I suggest you be quiet and think of what you've done, Alison. Believe me, you'll regret it later."

Alison gulped and she pushed herself to sit in the corner of the room. She looked around the sparse room for any sign to escape. Her entire body ached. She didn't know if she could make it. She didn't know where to go or if she could get out in time. She did her best to find a potential weapon as Carl wandered from the kitchen.

That was when Alison saw the sight of his coffee cup. She heard him go through the door to the garage, obviously going to check on the car. She slid up the wall and forced herself to move over to the cup. She kept her hands tied behind her before she felt behind her to grab the cup.

Her shaking hands caught it before she dropped it behind her. She allowed it to crash to the ground, shattering into sharp shards on the floor. She knew that Carl would have heard and would be on his way in a few moments. Alison bent onto the floor and tossed her head over her shoulder, her fingers managing to pick up a sharp edge.

She slid on her knees back to the wall and rested against it, the sharp object in her hands as she did her best to hack through the thin ropes on her wrists. Carl's footsteps thudded back into the kitchen and he saw Alison sat in her previous position.

"What was that?" he wondered before seeing the broken mug. "Did you do that?"

"I haven't moved," Alison lied to him, feeling the ropes loosen as she did her best to pull her wrists apart. "You mustn't have put it on the worktop properly."

"I put it on the worktop fine," Carl promised her. "Don't worry about that, Alison. Now, why did you do that?"

"I didn't," Alison replied to him, her wrists finally gaining feeling again. She clenched her fingers together and did her best to wriggle them from the bonds.

He slowly moved towards her and she kept silent as she finally felt her wrists free up. She just had to get to her ankles. She needed Carl to leave her alone. She needed him to get away from her.

It was then when his iPhone began to ring. A small smirk played on his face as he saw the caller ID of his boss.

"I'll deal with you in a minute," he promised her and slowly sauntered off to the next room.

Alison wondered if God had heard her prayers and had saved her. She didn't know, but she wasn't going to waste her time. She moved to her ropes and began to pull them from her ankles, freeing her entire body before she used the wall to help her stand. She grasped her side and her thighs before she slowly moved forwards, Carl's voice coming from the next room.

She kept silent as she slowly walked and saw the front door. She pushed on the handle to no reward. She cursed under her breath and shook her head, pulling at the door and realising that Carl could soon hear her. She looked to the staircase and knew that there had to be a window up there that she could break.

She moved up the steps slowly, wincing with each movement as she went. She finally came to the landing and heard Carl in the hallway beneath her. She ducked into the bathroom, knowing full well that there had to be a lock on that door. She was in luck and she turned the copper button as soon as she was inside. She looked around and found the window.

She stood on the toilet seat and sat herself down on the windowsill, pulling at the handle to open the small side window. She only hoped that she could climb out of it.

She opened the window and the rush of air that hit her caused her to cool as she looked down and saw a small ledge that led to the next house. She could climb out and slowly walk down it. She knew that she could.

"Alison!"

The roar that erupted was enough to make the girl stop her worrying of the drop if she put a foot wrong. She hastily pushed herself out the window just as she heard the stomping of stairs from upstairs. She squealed lightly as she stood on the felted ledge. She pressed her body against the wall, the shaking of the bathroom door putting her off for a moment.

She moved down the ledge, going past another window to the house. She assumed it was a bedroom window of some kind. She kept going before she saw Carl's head through the window.

"Alison. Get back here." He demanded from her.

She shook her head and kept going, looking away from him as she took slow and calming breaths for her nerves. She kept on moving before she saw Carl move onto the ledge himself.

"I'm warning you, Alison," he told her, walking with haste as she came to the next house.

She could only hope that there was someone in there. She needed someone to save her. She needed someone to take her in and keep her from Carl. She looked in the window of the house and saw nothing. It was only then when she saw a bin on the ground beneath her. She jumped down onto it, groaning in pain as her feet took the impact and her full weight.

It was then when she clambered to the floor and Carl copied her motions. She began to run then, rushing through the garden to the side of the house, his footsteps close behind her. She ignored the pain from her body, too focused on finding shelter to care about it. She pushed the gate open and saw an old man in the garden, a trowel in his hand as he looked over his tulips to Alison.

She noted a spade leant against the wall and wasted no time in picking it up. Carl came into view a moment later and Alison used all of her might to hit him over the head with it as he turned to see her lurking around the corner in front of the garage door.

He fell to the floor and the spade dropped from Alison's hands.

She collapsed to the floor, one hand on her thigh and the other on her side as the old man stood up and took in her appearance before he noted the gun that Carl was holding.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he snapped at her and she leant against the garage door.

"Can I borrow your phone?" she wondered, refusing to answer his question as she picked Carl's gun up and contemplated shooting him herself.

The old man dropped his trowel before he opened the front door to his house, shouting inside of it;

"Margret! I think I've just witnessed a murder!"

...

Q kept on working, doing his best to keep his mind focused as his body longed for sleep. He drank caffeine to keep himself awake and focused, knowing that was all he could do. It was eight o'clock in the morning. They had five more hours until time was up. It was then when he heard his phone begin to ring.

The unknown number gave him cause for concern but he unlocked his phone and took the call.

"Who is this?" he wondered, his tone curt.

"Q?"

Her shaking voice was enough to make him look away from his computer and close his eyes. A wash of fear came over him as he thought about what could have happened to her. Was this Carl's sick idea?

"Alison, where are you? What is he doing to you?"

"I'm in Stockport," Alison whispered to the quartermaster. "I...Carl's outside...the police are here...I escaped him...but I need..."

"What?" Q replied, his voice one of shock. "You escaped him? Alison, I need your exact location."

"27 Glanville Road," Alison responded quickly. "I crawled through the bathroom window and got away...and then I found Mr Barts...he took me in and I hit Carl with a spade..."

Her incoherence was confusing Q, but he didn't say anything about it. He remained silent as he listened to her with intent. She was safe. He could sense that she was safe.

"You're safe?"

"I'm safe," she confirmed. "I need you to tell my dad. The directory couldn't find him...but...well...Brenton's number was easy to find."

"I'll need to change that," Q replied to her.

"I'm glad you haven't," Alison whispered. "Will you come? Will you come with dad, Q?"

Q took a moment before he sighed and allowed his eyes to look to the ceiling.

"Of course," he told her. "I assume they will be taking you to hospital?"

"The ambulance is on its way," Alison replied, her breathing still erratic.

"I'll see which hospital they take to you. Hang on, Alison. I will be there as soon as possible, okay? Me and your dad. We'll come for you and make sure nothing happens like this again."

"Alison, dear, I think I see flashing lights," an old woman spoke and Alison looked over to Mrs Barts before she clutched onto the phone with both hands, the blanket around her shoulders falling down slightly.

"I have to go," Alison whispered. "Q...I..."

Alison didn't know what to say. She felt as though she should say something worthwhile to him. She felt as though she should tell him how she was beginning to feel about him, or how she missed him. But nothing came out. She couldn't think of the words to say.

Luckily Q had an idea for he wanted to say the same things back to her.

"I know," he told her. "Hang on, Alison. We'll be there soon."

"Bye, Q." Alison said and she hung up on the quartermaster.

Q pushed at his NHS glasses and grabbed his new anorak before nodding at R as the other workers began to file into the Division. Q said nothing as he walked down the middle of them and he knew that he was going to be the subject of their gossip for the day.

But he didn't care.

...

A/N: Thank you to gillyhelbee, Fingirl (if you've caught up then thank you! And yes, procrastination is never a good thing, but it seems it at the time) AbigailTBird, and JFJD (thanks for taking the time to catch up on this!) So do let me know what you think, and don't worry, I still have many ideas for this story!


	23. Chapter 23

Q had never been fond of hospitals. Then again, _who_ had ever been found of hospitals? He doubted anyone. He could see Bond rushing in front of him, always two steps ahead as they found the A&E department. Apparently Alison had been there for a while, still being examined before she could be moved to a ward.

007 had been frantic with worry ever since he had received the news from Q that his daughter was safe. He had returned to MI6 and found Q, telling him to hurry up and climb into his car. Bond had broken nearly every single traffic law on the way up to Stockport. Q had done his best to hold on and not look petrified of Bond's driving. It wouldn't shock him if he ended up in the bed next door to Alison.

Q stood by the curtain as Bond pushed it back to reveal his daughter sat up on the bed. Q took in her injuries, all the way from her bruised face to her tattered clothes that hung on her body. She had rough looking stitches in her thighs and Q gulped at the sight of them. He couldn't deny that they looked extremely ghastly.

Alison looked extremely ghastly in general.

She said nothing as Bond wrapped his arms around her and gently cradled her against his own body. He sat on the side of the bed as he kept both of his arms around her, his hand fisted into her hair and pushing her head to rest on his shoulder.

Q could see her body shaking as she sobbed and Bond said nothing, remaining wooden against his only child. Q kept his distance, sensing that it would be for the best at that moment. He took a moment before he turned around and gave them the privacy they needed. He slowly moved down the corridor again and decided to find himself a cup of Earl Grey for a moment or two.

Alison hadn't opened her eyes as soon as her head hit her father's shoulder. She couldn't help but find his aftershave intoxicating against her skin as she clung onto his jacket. She realised that he was the only family she had left now. Her father was the only thing left.

Bond's face scrunched up as he heard the strangled sounds come from her;

"Sh," he urged her, trying his best to soothe her. He'd never had to soothe anyone before. He had always seen Alison at her strongest. He had never seen her so emotional. It made him fear. It made him fear that he wasn't cut out to be a father. That he didn't have the emotional depth to look after his child.

But he pushed those fears away.

He may not have always been around, but he was going to have a bloody good go at making sure she was alright now.

"He killed her," Alison sobbed numbly. "He killed mum...dad..."

"I know," James said. What more could he say? "I know he did, Ali."

"She tried to save me," Alison mumbled. "She tried to stop him...and...and I ran...I ran past him as he killed her. I should have stopped. I should have told her not to-"

"-You cannot blame yourself," Bond interrupted, knowing full well that the guilt would soon eat her up if nothing else did. "Alison, you need to listen to me." He cradled her face in between his hands, his touch soft so that he didn't disturb her bruise. "Your mother did what any parent would have done. She tried to save you, Alison. She would not want you to sit here and feel like this."

Alison searched her father's gaze for a few moments and sniffed. James pushed her hair behind her ears and kissed her on the forehead.

"Nothing shall happen to you now, Ali," James promised her. "I'm here for you. I won't let anything like this happen ever again."

Alison wanted to remind him that he had made a similar promise before. She decided to keep her mouth closed as she allowed her body to collapse back against the pillows. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands before thinking of something to say.

"Where is Carl?" she wondered. "I...I hit him...and I thought that I had killed..."

"No," James shook his head. "You didn't kill anyone, Alison. Carl currently has a headache but that is nothing in comparison to what is coming his way. He's being transferred back to MI6."

Alison didn't know what to think at hearing that. She had been certain that she had killed him. She had _hoped _that she had killed him. Did that make her a monster? Did that make her as bad as him? She wanted to kill him for what he had done to her mother. Of course she did. She wanted nothing more than revenge.

"I see," Alison mumbled to her father and she cautiously played with a strand of her hair. She could feel her head pounding after everything that had just happened. She was exhausted, but she knew that sleep wouldn't come to her. She didn't want it to come to her just yet.

They said nothing more before the curtain was pulled back again and a nurse stood there with a clipboard.

"Miss Holmes," she said and then looked to James. "And you are?"

"Bond. James Bond," he responded, his tone curt. "I am her father."

The woman nodded and looked at her paper before entering the room slowly. She stood by Alison's bed and James took hold of his daughter's hand, doing his best to offer her comfort.

"Well, Mr Bond," the nurse said. "Your daughter has had a lucky escape. Her ribs aren't broken, but they are badly bruised. She has bruises throughout her body, but nothing too severe. The stitches...well...they are bad. We need to clean them up and re-stitch them. There doesn't look to be any sign of infection which is also quite fortunate."

"So...she will heal?" James checked.

The nurse took a moment before she handed Alison the blue gown she had been holding over her arm. "Can you manage to change into this, love? Or do you need help?"

Alison's pride remained intact and she shook her head.

"I can manage," she replied and the nurse gave her a sceptical look.

"Your father and I will be outside. Shout if you can't cope," she said and Bond nodded, running his hand down her hair before he followed the nurse to the corridor.

He stood with her silently before the nurse gave him a small look of concern.

"No one is saying much about your daughter's situation," the nurse whispered in a voice Bond could barely hear. "I'm led to believe that it is all hidden for some unknown reason."

"It is best that way," Bond promised her.

"That it may be," the nurse agreed lamely, "but your daughter is certain to suffer mentally. Physically she will heal, but...I heard her sobs...when she first came in she was hysterical. It is clear she has been through a lot."

James kept quiet and looked to the curtain again. He closed his eyes and nodded at the nurse. He knew full well that it would take time for her to recover.

...

It was later on in the afternoon when Bond was sent to find Q by Alison. It wasn't difficult to track him down. Bond was well aware that Q would have gone for a cup of Earl Grey. Bond slid into the seat opposite Q and sighed, his hands running down his stubbly chin.

"She's asking for you," Bond told the quartermaster. "I told her that you had come with me and she wants to see you. You've been hiding here for bloody long enough."

Q awkwardly coughed and sipped his fourth cup of tea. The woman behind the counter had allowed him free refills after his third cup, seeing his downtrodden face made her forget staff rules for the time being.

"I knew that you would need some time alone with her," Q informed James. "She is...well...she has lost her mother and has suffered pain. You are her only family. It had to be you who had to comfort her. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

Bond regarded Q with curiosity before he nodded in agreement. He clasped his hands and rested them on the table.

"Then I thank you for that," Bond said, the sincerity clear in his voice for once. "Just...be gentle with her, Q."

"I will be," Q promised James, finishing off his Earl Grey. "Are you not coming back with me?"

James shook his head and pulled his iPhone from his pocket. "I need to call M and see what we intend to do with Carl. Besides, I don't want to be there when you are holding my daughter. It isn't something that I care to watch."

"And how many women have you held?" Q mumbled back to James.

"Countless," Bond responded. "This is my daughter, Q. I trust you know that you need to be careful with her. She won't listen to me and forget about you."

"You want her to forget about me?" Q replied and he stood up, his hands moving to the pockets of his anorak.

"I would prefer for her to forget about men all together," James grumbled. "Tell her that I will be back in ten minutes. I'm not supposed to stay the night but exceptions can be made for agents."

"Especially those with double oh status," Q confirmed. "I shall see you soon."

"Yes," Bond agreed.

The quartermaster fled with haste, rushing back down the corridors until he came to the cubicle she was being kept in until a room in a ward was free. He smiled softly at her as she sat up straight again. She forced a wan smile onto her face and Q stood in the middle of the room, nervous to advance any further.

A duvet covered her legs, hiding her scarred legs from view. The blue gown hung limply on her thin form and her face looked gaunt and pale. A tray was sat on the table over her bed, an uneaten sandwich and yoghurt on it.

"I..." Alison trailed off, not too sure what she should say to Q. She had a feeling that she should apologise for running off from him. She didn't know why. She just didn't want him to be angry with her. "I shouldn't have run away or lied to you."

"No," Q shook his head and moved to sit by her side. His weight dipped the bed and he shrugged out of his anorak, dropping it in the chair next to her bed. "Alison, do not blame yourself for this. None of it is your fault."

"How can it not be?" Alison sniffed as she turned her gaze back to Q. "My dad told me that guilt will eat me up if I keep blaming myself. I just find it difficult not to."

"Your dad is right," Q assured her, "as much as it pains me to say it. What happened was planned. It was planned by Carl. Do not let him win this battle. Don't let him break you. Your mother wouldn't want that...your dad doesn't want that...and I don't want it, Alison."

The girl moved one of her trembling hands to rest over Q's fingers. The quartermaster picked her hand up and cradled it gently in both of his. He looked down at the entwined limbs and his brows furrowed. He only hoped that she would be able to overcome what had happened to her. She had to be strong now. She had to show the determination that her father had.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" she suddenly asked.

Q looked back to her and shook his head.

"How can I be mad at you?" he rhetorically asked her. "Don't worry about me being angry, Alison. Believe me; my bark is worse than my bite."

He earned a laugh from her then and he moved to adjust his seat on the bed.

"Have you eaten anything?" Q enquired, knowing full well that she hadn't for her dinner remained on the tray uneaten.

"I'm not hungry," Alison assured him.

Q shook his head and dropped her hand. He picked the yoghurt up himself and pulled the lid open. He had to admit that it didn't look entire appetising. He supposed she would have to get over that issue. He dropped the plastic spoon into it and handed it to her.

"You need to keep your strength up," Q informed her.

"Yes, dad," she rolled her eyes and attempted to lift her arm up. Her ribs agitated her after she hadn't moved in so long. Q noted and he pulled the spoon out and offered it to her.

"You're really going to feed me like a baby?" she checked with him.

"Just open your mouth and eat, Alison," he demanded from her.

She kept silent and did as he had said. She swallowed the spoonful of yoghurt and Q went to fill the plastic up again.

"I know that I should say something," Alison replied with haste to Q. "I know that I should at least try to make conversation. I mean...I spent hours crying to my dad..."

"He is your dad," Q replied. "I expect you did. I also assume that you have cried for as long as possible now. You needn't shed anymore tears. They won't do anyone any good, Alison."

She kept silent before catching Q's gaze and he fed her more of the yoghurt.

"I don't think I can cry," Alison replied. "I'll be dehydrated by the time that happens."

"You should rest before they take you to a ward," Q informed her. "You need to eat and then sleep."

"You won't go?" she checked with him and Q shook his head.

"I'll be right here."

She relaxed again then, finishing off her dinner before Q told her to lie down. He was about to move from the bed when he felt her hand on his, stopping him from going anywhere. She kept quiet before she rested her head against his upper arm and closed her eyes. Q kept silent and remained sat still where he was, his mind wondering back through the events of the day.

He only hoped that Carl didn't pull a Silva and escape from MI6. No. There was only one Silva...thankfully...

...

A/N: Thank you to Guest, LadyFides, Sunday and Fingirl for reviewing the next chapter! Updates will probably slow down in the next week or so as I start uni and writing for the uni newspaper again etc...but I won't abandon this! So do let me know what y'all think!


	24. Chapter 24

The next week was horrific for Alison. She was discharged from hospital and then she had to plan a funeral for her mother. Her aunt had helped her too, looking at Alison with caution. MI6 had done their best to keep the details of what had happened to a minimum. They still had a mission in Germany going ahead and details had to be kept quiet.

James showed up to the funeral with Alison. Q had asked her if she wanted him there for he would attempt to take time off of work. She insisted that she would be fine with her dad. James had received odd looks when he walked into small chapel, his hand held firmly in Alison's.

Apparently Maria had kept him quiet for a long time. Not that he could blame her. She had spent her years raising their child. She had done the majority of the work and James had turned up when he felt like it. But now he was always going to be there. He always had to be there.

"Your dad has gone to base," Q explained one evening when he saw Alison answer the door to her apartment.

He hadn't seen much of her recently. He had been working and Bond had deemed it necessary to take her away for a week. They'd gone up to Scotland to stay in a hotel. Alison had told her father that she didn't need to go, but Bond had been adamant.

"I thought he would have gone," Alison said and moved to peck Q on the cheek. "He dumped the case back here and told me he had business to run. He's only been gone for a minute. Did you see him on your way up?"

Q coughed awkwardly and closed the door to her apartment. He followed Alison into her undecorated bedroom as she began to move over the case and pull out her clothes, sorting out a washing pile and a clean pile.

"He sort of told me to come over for now," Q admitted. "I think it will take a while before he leaves you on your own."

"He's constantly watching me," Alison said, placing some clothes into a drawer.

Q had to be amazed that she was moving with such ease. He knew of her bruised ribs and stitched up thighs. He thought that it would take a while before she could get back to normal physically. Mentally he knew it would take more than a while.

"He is your father," Q replied with a nonchalant shrug. He saw her begin to stretch to reach the top of her wardrobe and he pulled the jumpers from her hands. He placed them on the shelf before seeing a frown on her face.

"Everything will get better," Q promised her, moving his finger to curl around her chin and tilt her head to look at him. "I can assure you of that, Alison."

"I know," Alison smiled back to him and ran her hand down his upper arm before she began to unpack again. "Dad says that he is due back at work soon. He told me that Carl is on trial...well...soon enough..."

"Yes," Q nodded.

He didn't know how far he should take the topic of Carl with her. He was well aware that it would be a sensitive issue. He didn't want to make her upset. He always felt like he was treading on eggshells when he was speaking to her. He knew that feeling would stop soon enough. He just had to be patient.

Alison sighed, knowing that he was trying to spare her feelings.

"You can talk about it, Q," she promised him. "I don't mind. My dad refuses to even mention anything. I want to know what is happening about him."

"Well," Q cleared his throat and she handed him another jumper to place on the top shelf. "He is standing trial for multiple crimes. Kidnapping...murder...attempted murder...the chances of him ever seeing a free world are slim. Well, they are nonexistent," Q clarified for Alison. "I'm sorry that I can't tell you anymore. I've been doing my best to stay away from the matter."

"And dad?" Alison wondered. "I see the way he looks at me now. I...I can't explain it...but...it's like he sees himself as being responsible for this mess."

"He is," Q bluntly replied and then shook his head as Alison's shocked gaze moved over to his. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that they needed a ticket into MI6 and you were it because of your dad. I didn't mean anything by it, Alison."

"It's fine," Alison shook her head, not wanting to listen to Q and his concerns. "I know what you meant, Q."

"Anyway," Q said, doing his best to change the topic with haste. "What did you do in Scotland?"

Alison shrugged and placed her underwear away and swiped her hand over the dust forming on her bedside table.

"Nothing really," she replied. "Dad fed me so much that I could have rolled back to the hotel. He took me to all of these nice restaurants and did his best to distract me from everything. He tried too hard if anything. You'd love it up there. It is full of things to do and see."

Nodding, Q took the empty case which Alison was shutting. He finished closing it for her and set it on top of her wardrobe where she had instructed him.

"Perhaps I shall go one day," Q responded to her. "Maybe we could try another day trip in the future and see if this one works out too?"

Alison bit down on her bottom lip, not too sure what to say to him. She still remembered how the previous one turned out. Her dad had told her that he would do his best to cut her connections with MI6 again. Of course she would struggle to do that if she stayed with Q.

"Maybe," Alison weakly agreed. "Anyway, do you want something to eat or anything? We don't have any food, but that is nothing unusual. I can always go to the shop."

"Why don't we go out for something to eat?" Q wondered from her and she remained hesitant. "Nothing will happen, Alison. We don't have to go anywhere posh or anything like that."

"No, it sounds nice," Alison nodded. "Just let me get changed."

Q stepped outside of her room and checked his anorak pocket for his wallet. He wandered around the living room, looking at the simple furnishings. There was a sofa and a TV on the wall. A lamp stood by a leather seat, but there was no sideboard or coffee table. Apparently Bond had just moved in.

He took to sitting in the leather chair before he saw Alison's bedroom door open again. She had changed into a three quarter length black dress that clung to her figure. She'd done nothing to her hair, leaving it to hang lose as she carried a small black bag by her side.

"You were quick," commented Q.

"I only changed my dress," she replied and checked her reflection in the glass of the window pane. "Can you see the bruise or do I need to do my makeup again?"

Q shook his head. The mark had faded considerably so and it looked like nothing underneath her makeup. He offered her his arm and she took it, locking up and dutifully following him onto the street.

She looked around, as if constantly looking for a sign of danger. Q shook his head and increased his grip on her arm, doing his best to assure her that there was nothing there. He took her to a small Italian around the corner that he had spotted a few weeks before.

"You must be thinking of going back to York soon," Q commented as Alison picked up a breadstick and chewed the tip of it.

They sat in a small booth in the corner, both of them next to each other so that their legs brushed together. Alison shrugged and rested her elbows on the table.

"I guess," she responded. "I have a month left I think. It isn't long really. It sounds like ages, but I know that it isn't. I do miss it in a way...the normalcy. Lucy called me to say she's going back to our flat early. Dad said MI6 restored it to how it was before Silva tipped it."

Q kept his attention on her as Alison looked at all of the other people in the small building. The candlelight made the place seem more intimate, but also much darker than Alison would have liked.

"You know that I have never been involved in a relationship," Q approached the delicate topic. "The last relationship I had been in was with a girl at university who was as smart as me but she moved over to the States. Ever since then I have been concerned with work. I never considered the need for a relationship."

Alison took a moment before a small smirk perked onto her face. The first smile Q had seen in a long time from her. "I think you might be trying to ask me something," she replied. "You're not exactly blunt on the matter."

"I'm not blunt on things like these," Q promised her. "Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I would like to see you even when you're not here."

"If I'm not here then you can't see me," she teased him, seeing his reddening cheeks before she rolled her eyes and a genuine smile came onto her face. She moved her hand to take hold of Q's fingers and she kissed him on the cheek.

"I would like to see you too," she assured him. "Don't worry about it, Q. Term time isn't that long and we always have weekends and reading weeks to see each other."

"So you do still want to see me?" Q checked; his voice hesitant.

Alison said nothing, deciding to move her lips closer to Q's. She kissed him chastely before pulling back. She didn't move too far back as his free hand caught the back of her neck and his fingertips tickled against the wisps of hair there.

"Yes," Alison replied in a gentle whisper. "I want to see you, Q."

"Do we need to label this?" Q wondered from her. "People tend to do that."

Alison scoffed and shook her head. "We know what we are. We don't need to label it, Q. Besides, I doubt you'd want to be called my boyfriend."

Q shrugged awkwardly. "I wouldn't mind if you want to change your Facebook page."

Alison allowed another smile to move on her face as she drank a bit of the water from her glass.

"You need to stop Facebook stalking me," she informed him. "I know that it is natural for the quartermaster of MI6 to know everything about me but it still creeps me out a bit."

"I can make no promises," Q grinned and Alison rolled her eyes at hearing him.

She took another bite of breadstick before the pizza was served. They ate with quiet conversation for the rest of the night, only standing and moving to the bar to pay the bill when the night was well and truly upon them. Q had draped his jacket around Alison's shoulders as he leant his folded arms on the bar and Alison allowed the back of her legs to lean against the wood.

Her hands remained on the lapels of Q's jacket as he stood in his anorak and finished paying the bill. Alison looked out of the window, her concentration somewhere else as she watched the wandering figures.

It was only when she saw a familiar shade of bleach blond hair did she narrow her gaze in concentration. She said nothing as Q remained focused on paying. Alison shook her head and looked back to him, wrapping both of her arms around one of his and her cheek on his shoulder.

She had to stop jumping every time something reminded her of the past.

Someone with bleach blond hair didn't mean that it was him. It couldn't be.

...

A/N: So thanks to anyone reading and I do hope that you will let me know what you think so far! And if you have any idea what is gonna happen!


	25. Chapter 25

Q was well aware of Alison's determination to go back to York. He didn't like the idea of it, of course. He would much prefer to keep her where he could see her. He knew that she had a course to go to in York. She had a life there. She had a life that Silva could get to and attempt to ruin. That was the thing which worried Q the most.

He walked her back to her apartment and did his best to distract his mind...well...her mind. He suspected that they were both in need of being distracted. He kept quiet as he walked by her side, her arm entwined with his. The pair of them seemed to be contemplating the evening that they had just endured with each other. Q couldn't help but think that every evening he spent with Alison was one that made him like her even more.

And then she was leaving him.

He knew that he would be able to talk to her and see her on odd occasions. He would just prefer to live less than two minutes away from her.

"What are you doing?" he wondered once she walked into the kitchen. They had just shared a large pizza between them. Although Alison seemed insatiable when it came to the dough based meal.

"Baking," she replied, grabbing an apron and draping it over her shoulders. "I need to do something, Q. You have no idea how much TV I have watched recently. I need to do something to keep my mind occupied. You can help if you want?"

"I've never baked before," commented Q to Alison. "I prefer to cook instead of make cakes."

"Perfect!" Alison snapped and she grabbed a mixing bowl before opening her cook book to the page she knew she wanted. "Q, humour me?" she urged him when she saw him look apprehensive. "I haven't baked in a long time. I did it all of the time at university when exams were approaching."

Q's brow furrowed and he moved to stand next to her, peering down at the book on the worktop along with her. "If exams were approaching then shouldn't you have been revising?"

Alison rolled her eyes and nudged him gently in the ribs. She grabbed the eggs and butter from the kitchen before she placed them on the counter.

"I should have been," she said. "The thought of revision is not something which thrills me though, Q."

"I doubt it thrills anyone," Q replied dryly to her and grabbed the weighing scales that were to the right of him. "Anyway, we can do whatever you feel like doing. It is no bother to me, Alison."

Alison smiled and kissed him on the cheek before weighing the flour out. She saw a small blush play on his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly before he looked down to her, his glasses falling slightly down his nose.

It was official; Q cared for Alison more than he thought possible.

...

Bond was drained. He had spent his evening at MI6 base, snapping at anyone who got in his way. All he wanted to do now was to go home and sleep. He wanted to make sure Alison was safe before collapsing on the sofa with a beer, draining the contents and allowing his mind to wander from Carl.

That asshole had pushed Bond's buttons. He knew how to and that was the thing which agitated Bond further. The 007 longed for the man to be locked away and forgotten. Bond had done his best not to bother seeing him, but he had failed miserably. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know why it had to be Alison. Why she was the one with the bad luck.

Carl simply replied that it had to be someone with the bad luck.

James fished around for his keys inside of his pocket before he pulled them out and placed them into the door of his apartment. The sight that he saw was enough to make his eyes widen in confusion.

He could hear laughter and he looked through the open spaced living area to where Alison stood. She had an apron covered in flour and she was holding a cake tin with her oven mitts on her hands. Q stood next to her, his face covered in flour, his glasses clouded with it too.

"And what is going on in here?" Bond wondered as he allowed the door to close behind him.

He stood by the breakfast bar and dropped his keys onto the surface as Alison turned back to beam at him.

"Q had an accident with the flour," Alison commented.

"I...well...dropped it onto the worktop. I've managed to clean most of it," Q commented and wiped his glasses with his sleeve.

James arched a brow and his lips pulled up in a vague smirk. "I'm glad to see that you're having fun."

"Mm," Alison agreed; her full concentration now on peeling the cake from the tin which it sat in.

Q checked the watch on his wrist before knowing that he should get home. He didn't want to go too late.

"I should get going," Q said and placed his glasses back onto his eyes.

Alison nodded at him and she finally prised the cake free from its container.

"Shall I be seeing you tomorrow?" she wondered and Q nodded at her, wondering where the line was in front of Bond. He didn't want to cross the 'intimacy line' when the agent to kill was stood less than five metres away from him.

"I was thinking that we could catch a film tomorrow night," Q told her. "If you'd like to, that is?"

"Love to," Alison said and she rested her hand onto Q's shoulder and pecked him just near his mouth. James coughed awkwardly and Q instinctively jumped back, quickly squeezing Alison's hand before he turned around to grab his jacket and then slide into his anorak.

James looked at him with amusement. He knew that Q was scared to death of him when he was with Alison.

As it should be.

James nodded at Q and then took hold of his keys again. "I'll walk you out, Q."

"Why?" Alison was the one to wonder. "Isn't that my job?"

"You're relieved of your duty for one night," Bond responded, his voice sardonic. Alison shook her head and Q glanced at her and shrugged. He didn't know what Bond wanted from him. He sometimes wondered if he _ever _wanted to know.

Alison said nothing as she watched Q and her father leave the flat, the door slamming behind them as they went.

Bond was the first one to walk down the steps of his flat's building, making sure he was one storey down before he took a moment to look back at Q, his brows furrowed as he did so. The quartermaster seemed to stare back, concern evident in his face.

"What is it?" Q finally wondered. "Is it something do with Carl?"

"No," Bond replied. "It is nothing to do with Carl...although I would like nothing more than to rid myself of that man."

"Then what is it that troubles you so much that you need to speak to me when we are away from Alison?" Q dared to ask and Bond stopped on the steps.

Q studied James's face, doing his best to comprehend the sight which he was seeing. Bond looked terrified of something. He looked downtrodden and beat. Q had never seen such a sight before.

"What is it?" Q wondered; his tone calm and collected.

"How do you do it?" Bond suddenly asked him. "I haven't seen her smile in weeks. I haven't heard her laugh in ages...I wondered if she would ever be happy again. I took her away and nothing seemed to make her genuinely happy. I come back to find you've been here all of four hours and she's laughing as though she has no problems."

Q listened with intent as Bond explained his concerns about his daughter. Q didn't know if he could put them at ease. He doubted he could, but he would give it a go. He coughed into his fist and looked to the ground, closing his eyes and licking his lips as he thought.

"I think the trick is not to try too hard," Q replied to James. "You're trying to make her happy...well...it isn't natural to be so forceful in that way. It is natural to do things with her...but...well...you don't need to do extravagant things to make her forget."

James sighed and shook his head. The day that Q knew his daughter better than him scared Bond. He placed his hands into his pockets and looked down the next flight of stairs, his eyes narrowing as he saw a blond head move underneath the railing on the ground floor.

Shaking his head, he looked back to Q, knowing that his imagination was getting the best of him.

"You're her dad," Q shrugged. "I'm sure she's just worried about you. I doubt you're doing anything wrong."

"Aren't I?" James wondered, his attention now fully on Q. "There are sometimes I think I really am doing everything wrong."

"Just talk to her," suggested Q. "Or go and get covered in flour. She seems to prefer that method."

Bond's lips tugged upwards again at that part and Q shook his head and looked down the stairs;

"I'd best get going," he told him. "Say goodnight to Alison for me."

"You already said goodnight."

"Well say it again," Q replied, "or I'll make sure the next gun I give you doesn't shoot as well as it should."

James chuckled as Q left the building and he ran back upstairs in his attempt to go and find Alison once more. He unlocked the door and saw her stood with her back to him. She had a piping bag in her hands and was slowly piping cream on top of the cake.

"What did you want with Q?" she wondered from her father, not looking away from the task at hand.

"Nothing," Bond lied. "I needed to ask him something about the gun he gave me the other week. Something is wrong with it."

"I see," Alison said, knowing that her father was most probably lying to her. She decided not to push the matter. It was evidentially something her father didn't want to talk of.

"So what have you done tonight?" James wondered, doing his best to sound normal as he stood besides Alison, grabbing a beer from the fridge on his way.

"Q took me to this nice Italian down the road," Alison nodded. "Then I told him that I felt like baking a cake."

"I didn't know we had all of the ingredients to bake a cake," James informed his daughter.

"You didn't," she said. "I bought some when you were away the last time. I didn't think that you'd notice. I feel as though I have to bake occasionally."

"Whatever you want to do," James replied and Alison looked over to him.

"What is it?"

"What's what?" James wondered.

She placed the piping bag down and ran her hands down the front of her apron.

"I can tell that there is something wrong with you," Alison informed her father. "You don't look like your normal self."

James sighed and ran his hand down his chin. There was no point in denying anything to her. He needed to talk with her. He wanted to.

"I'm worried about you," James admitted. "I haven't seen you smile in a long time and then I walk in...and...well...Q is the one who is with you and making you happy. I took you to Scotland and you never smiled once. I just...I don't know, Alison...I've never been any good at being a father...I've never really been there...I'm trying..."

Silence shrouded the pair of them after Bond's sudden outburst. Obviously Alison had no response to it either.

"You have been there," Alison whispered. "I just needed...I don't know what I needed, dad...but...everything is still difficult."

"I know that," Bond said. "I just want to make sure that I don't lose you, Alison."

Alison gave him a small smile and moved to wrap her arms around his waist, holding herself tightly to his body. James took a deep breath and shook his head, not sure what he should be thinking as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Just stop trying too hard," Alison mumbled. "You don't have to. I promise you that you won't lose me."

James ran his palm down her long hair, stroking it back from her face as she took a deep sigh and pulled back to smile up at him;

"You'll still come to visit me in York, won't you? I mean...we're not parting ways forever, dad."

James shuffled around for a moment and released his daughter, his hand moving down her cheek before he looked to the ceiling and wondered whether or not he should ask her of the one thing he requested from her. He knew that she wasn't going to like it, but he couldn't let her leave him again.

Just not yet.

...

A/N: Hectic times at uni so far! Anyway, thanks to JFJD, Fingirl, LadySuadela, Sunday and JessicaAsh008 for reviewing the previous chapter. I know that there isn't a lot happening so far, but there will be soon enough! Thanks for sticking with me!


	26. Chapter 26

"Do you think that?" Alison wondered from her father. "I can't switch universities, dad. It isn't that simple...I'm in my third year...they might not let me switch to their course. Then there is the fact that I don't even want to go. Did you consider that?"

James had told Alison of his plan for her, but he had done it to no prevail. She was adamant that she didn't want to live in London fully. She had a life in York.

"I am worried for you," James told her. "I am worried about what will happen if Silva comes back...if he tries to get to you again."

"Why would he do that?" Alison was the one to snap at her father.

Her annoyance was level with her understanding. She knew why her father wanted to do it. She knew why he wanted to keep her close. She didn't believe that it was the right thing to do, but she understood. Moving to London would mean giving her flat in York up...leaving Lucy to find a new flatmate. There was also the issue of transferring.

"Who knows?" Bond replied as Alison slammed the doors to cupboards shut, placing away everything which she had just washed up.

Bond leant by the counter and studied her, doing his best to understand what his daughter felt. He could tell she was angry. He knew that much by the way she slammed the doors shut.

"We both have no idea what Silva will try to do, Ali," Bond whispered to her, trying to calm her down. "He has been keeping low, but who is to say that he won't try anything? I don't want him to take you again."

Alison shook her head and then lowered her eyes. Her head bowed and she inhaled a sharp breath. James pondered trying to comfort her and make her see that he was doing this for the best. He slowly took a swig of his beer and then placed it back down. He moved to rest his hand on her shoulder as her hands kept grip of the counter.

"You are a twenty year old woman," James sighed. "You...you can do as you please. I just want you to stay with me, Alison. I honestly do."

Nodding, Alison turned her head to the side and looked at her father. She'd had a feeling that he was going to ask her about this. She knew that it was too good to be true. Her father had been keeping a constant watch over her, it was no wonder he didn't want her to leave him.

"There's just so much that could go wrong," Alison whispered. "I have friends in York. I have Lucy...I mean...I don't know if she will be able to find a new flatmate or pay for the rent. Not to mention she's concerned about everything going on with me because I've been distant this summer. Besides, can I transfer into my third year of another university? Some places are strict about things like that, dad."

"You are dating Q," James reminded her and she turned around as he pushed her hair behind her ear. "I am sure that he can figure something out about it."

"It just feels as though we're letting him win," Alison complained to her father and Bond nodded, his hand running down her cheek as he did his best to soothe her. "I don't want to live in fear, dad. I don't want to panic every time I see someone with blond hair."

"And I don't want that for you either," Bond quickly jumped in and bent his head down to her height. "I just want you to stay here and try to live a normal life."

"Staying here isn't my normal life," she muttered to him.

"It could be," James replied. "I want you to stay, Alison. You are my daughter. I've never had you live with me fully...it's nice, Alison."

Alison smiled gently as soon as she heard him and kissed him on the cheek. James had to admit that he was shocked. He always did find it amazing how Alison's mood could change in the blink of an eye.

"I like being with you too, dad," she replied. "You know that, especially now, you're the only one who I have. I just can't help but think that he is winning."

James shrugged in her direction and let out an exasperated sigh as he stepped back from her and she nodded, inhaling sharply and then shaking her head softly. She took a moment to look back to her father before she clasped her hands together.

"Fine," Alison replied. "I will stay here."

James didn't know whether to smile or console her. He was grateful, that was all he knew. He said nothing as Alison went back to tidying the kitchen.

"But I need to make sure Lucy finds a flatmate," Alison began her terms. "You need to talk to Q about transferring if the worst comes to the worst."

"Obviously," drawled James. "Is that it?"

"That's it," Alison nodded.

They lapsed into a silence and Alison bit down on her lip, nervously wondering how she would break the news to Lucy.

...

"She's convinced that you're a controlling freak," Alison informed her father as she returned into the living room and sat next to him on the sofa. She pulled her feet onto the cushion and looked at the TV. Her father was watching the late night news, a bottle of beer in one hand and the remote in the other.

"What did you tell her?" Bond wondered from his daughter, his gaze still glued on the television in front of him.

"I told her that you wanted to keep me here ever since mum died," Alison said. "She's offered to come and visit me later when she gets back into her normal routine."

"That's fine," James said. "And what about finding a flatmate?"

"She said that Jason was looking for a place so she's going to see if he wants my place. She's boxing my stuff up and posting it down so I need to pay her back for that," Alison yawned loudly. "She was really concerned. I spent half of the phone call trying to persuade her that there was nothing wrong with me."

"Lying to her," Bond clarified.

"Yeah, well," Alison drawled, "she doesn't need to know all of what has happened this summer. I did tell her about Q though. Apparently Daniel was really interested in me and was texting Lucy all summer."

Bond's brow furrowed. "If he is interested in you then why was he texting Lucy?"

"To see if I was interested."

Bond rolled his eyes. He supposed he had never been one to understand such a mediocre thing. He'd never had an issue when it came to women.

"I don't know whether to be happy you're not or worried that you're so involved with Q," Bond complained and Alison shook her head, smiling softly as she thought of the quartermaster. Bond noticed the love struck look on her face. He couldn't help but frown as he saw it.

"It could be worse," Alison replied and she leant back against her father's shoulder, her shoulder blade protruding into his side. He ignored it as he dropped the remote from his hand and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. "At least Q isn't some drug lord...or some mass murderer."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better about you two becoming more intimate?" James wondered; a smirk on his face and Alison shrugged against him.

"I don't know," Alison replied.

"It doesn't," James promised her. "Just make sure you put your studies first before him."

"Yes, dad," Alison drawled before looking to the TV screen. She took another moment before she spoke back to him. "So did you know who he was that day in the gallery?"

"I found out about him that day. He is new in Q Branch," Bond replied to her. "I was told to meet him in the National Gallery. He seemed to enjoy the art."

"He knew a lot about it," Alison admitted. "I had no idea what he was talking about."

"No," James replied. "I told him that all I saw was a bloody big ship."

James kept silent and so did Alison. It took her a few moments before she began to laugh. The sound was hearty as she bent at the waist and continued to laugh. James looked perplexed for a moment before he found her sound to grow intoxicating. His lips pulled upwards and the hand over the back of the sofa slowly found Alison's hand and he held it tightly, content with sitting there and listening to her laugh.

...

Alison kept her arm in Q's as they stood in the line to the film that evening. He had persuaded her to go and see a new biopic about some scientist. She had agreed, simply content with sitting there and eating popcorn. They stood in a long line of people who were chatting whilst waiting for the screen to be cleaned.

"I have to admit that I am a little relieved," Q informed Alison once she had told him of her plan to stay in London. He pushed at his glasses before looking back down to her. "At least I won't be checking the CCTV cameras all through York whilst I work."

Alison's brows furrowed. "You would have done that? Or are you joking?"

"I am not known for my jokes," Q replied. "I am known for my dry wit, but not humour."

Rolling her eyes, Alison nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled before he turned serious again;

"I am happy though," he told her. "I know that it isn't ideal, and it isn't what you wanted to happen...but...maybe it is for the best."

"Maybe," she weakly agreed with him and picked at the popcorn she was slowly eating.

"You do know that there will be none of that left for the film if you keep persistently eating it," Q told her and she ate another bit before he decided to grab a handful to stop her from scoffing it all and feeling ill during the film.

"Anyway, this now means that you get to spend more time with me. Personally I can't think of anything that you'd want more," Alison said, sarcasm held in her voice as she peered up to look at Q. Some kind of shy smirk was held on his face as he ran his hand through his dark locks.

"It really is," Q admitted to her with a small smile and she quickly leaned up to kiss him.

"It's really what I want too," Alison whispered to him and he grinned back, almost looking content.

"I think we're moving," Alison said after a moment of silence. It took a few seconds before they slowly began to move, only for Q's phone to begin vibrating in his anorak pocket.

"You know that you get thrown out for things like that in there," she teased him and he rolled his eyes at her before pulling his phone out and unlocking it.

Alison knew that there was something wrong as soon as she saw Q's face fall. His grip on her arm increased and she looked to his paling face. Shaking her head back and forth, she kept silent and looked at the screen in front of him.

"He's back," Q said after he took a large gulp.

He looked down into her gaze and saw her fear. Q took a moment before taking hold of her hand and pulling her out of the queue. They rushed outside to the pavement, standing in the cool air as Q dropped his phone back into his anorak pocket.

"Your dad is at MI6 now," Q informed her. "There's been some form of terrorist attack...I don't know the details...but I will soon..."

"And you're sure it is him?" Alison checked with Q. "You're sure it is Silva?"

"That's what I will try to discover," Q responded and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "It does sound promising, Alison...you will come with me tonight though. Your dad won't want you alone."

Alison remained confused for a few moments before she nodded with haste. She was as shocked as Q was.

"It's going to be okay," Q promised and took her hand again, squeezing it tightly. "I promise you that."

...

A/N: Thank you to Fingril, LadySuadela and JFJD for reviewing the previous chapter! Sorry updates are slow but I hope you stick with me!


	27. Chapter 27

Q had to admit that he was nervous as he sat in the passenger seat of Alison's car. Everything seemed to unnerve him, not just her erratic driving through the streets of London. He could see the strain in her face as she leant against her steering wheel and navigated where Q told her to go.

"Alison," Q whispered; his voice low and taut as he looked across to her. "You're going above thirty miles per hour."

She looked down to the speedometer and lightly pulled her foot from the accelerator. She said nothing to him as her mind continued to race through incomprehensible thoughts. She had to admit that she was still confused about everything. She didn't really know what to think about what Q had told her before.

She doubted Silva was going to try anything again. She didn't want to think about what would happen if he did. The thought scared her too much.

"You need to turn left and drive down there."

"It says no access," Alison said, "Are you sure we can go down there?"

"It says no access for a reason, Alison," Q replied to her, doing his best not to sound irritated with the entire situation which he found himself in. "There's hardly going to be a sign post saying 'this way to MI6'."

"Okay," Alison snapped back at him. "You don't need to have a go at me, Q! It isn't my fault that we're in this mess!"

"I never said it was," Q responded back and shook his head. He was being irrational. He just needed to calm down and apologise. That would make everything better. "I didn't mean to snap, Alison...I'm just as stressed as you are."

She pulled up to the barrier and Q rolled his window down, taking control of the situation as two security guards stood either side of the car. Alison said nothing as she kept her feet on the clutch and brake and her hands on the wheel.

"Quartermaster," Q identified himself. "M called me in."

The guard nodded and the barrier lifted up. Was it really that easy to get into the place of National Security? Alison's brows furrowed as she drove down the ramp, the underground tunnel barely leaving enough space for her car to get through. She drove cautiously before Q gulped and laced his fingers together.

"You're not mad, are you?" he wondered, his voice timid as he spoke.

She inhaled sharply and shook her head at him. "No," she said. "How about we both just try to remain as calm as possible? I trust my dad is doing enough worrying for the pair of us anyway."

"With good reason," Q nodded. "Okay, you need to park at the end bay. It's my spot...but...well...I don't drive, obviously."

"Obviously," Alison repeated and did as she was told. She pulled into the spot and turned the engine off. Climbing from the car, she looked around the underground car park and noted her father's new car in the corner.

Q held his arm for her to take. She did so with haste, squeezing their interlinked arms together and falling into step with him. He led her to the elevator in the corner and tapped in the code for the machine to commence movement. Alison turned to look at Q, releasing his arm and allowing her eyes to roam over his dark hair and his brown eyes.

"If it is him...well...I know what could happen..." Alison began to blabber, knowing that she might not have much time left with Q alone. "He's crazy...well...he has his reasons for doing things, but I hardly think that they're sane reasons sometimes...what I want to say is that...I don't want anything to happen, but if it does...well...you know, don't you?"

Q's brows furrowed in confusion. He had never been too clever when it came to guessing what Alison was trying to say. He suspected that was something to do with the fact that he had never really been around the female gender.

"What is it that I am supposed to know?" Q wondered and Alison rolled her eyes at him.

She couldn't help the small little smile which found its way to her face. She was slowly falling for him.

"That I care for you," she whispered. "I don't know, maybe I am falling in love with you."

There. She had finally said it. The L word. She hadn't admitted to being in love with him, but she knew that she was well on the way to that emotion. She knew that she could have told him before, when things weren't so tense, but at least he knew. This was Q, he wouldn't have known if she didn't say anything.

He seemed startled for a few moments, wondering if he should say something similar back to her. He didn't really know what he could say though. He suspected the same sentence would be amicable.

"Then...well...I do...I mean...feel the same," Q informed her and she gave him a small smile and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

Q took hold of her hand and moved one step closer to her. She stood where she was, watching him with intrigue before he released her hand, dropping it back down to her side and she kept her grip on his hand, finding herself unable to release his fingers from hers. She said nothing to him as she felt his lips press against hers in a tender motion. Q was never forceful about anything. He often treated her as though she would break at any moment.

Alison had to admit that she was too preoccupied with keeping her mind on track that she didn't notice the opening of the elevator doors.

"Busy, are you?"

She jumped back from Q and the quartermaster had the decency to allow his cheeks to flush red with slight embarrassment. Alison turned her head to the side, looking at her father as he stood in the corridor with his arms folded over his chest. He wore his grey suit over his body and his eyes held circles under them and he looked as though he was ready to fall to sleep at any given moment.

Even 00's tired occasionally.

"Dad," Alison said, forgetting about the fact that he had caught her and Q kissing. She moved out of the elevator and went to throw her arms around her father. James released his defensive pose and held his daughter tightly to him for another few moments before he held her at arm's length, his fingers curling over her shoulders.

"Did you manage to get here okay?"

"We were not tracked, if that is what you meant," Q interjected and pushed his glasses further onto his nose as he began to walk down the corridor. James followed him, keeping an arm around Alison's shoulders as he went in the direction of Q Branch.

"What do we know so far?" Q wondered, going into work mode as he placed his hands into his anorak's pockets.

"There was a terrorist attack in Canary Wharf," Bond spoke. "A bomb exploded and the stocks and shares have all been disrupted. It came back and they found shares in a company to have dropped."

"It's like Batman," Alison muttered to herself and James arched a brow.

Q turned his head over his shoulder to look back at Bond;

"What company?"

"Hart and Co," James replied. "They worked in scientific research of some kind."

"Not high profile," Q shook his head. "Why do we think it is Silva?"

James sighed and ran a hand over his chin as they turned left.

"He was caught on CCTV several hours ago leaving the market place. The cameras didn't pick him up and no one thought anything suspicious about him. There was no reason to suspect he was doing anything wrong. He blended in."

Q cursed in his head and finally entered Q Branch, moving down the corridor. The Branch was empty and Q checked the clock which had just struck nine at night. He could feel a groan erupting in his throat as he considered the possibility of staying in the cold room all night. He knew that Bond wouldn't stop for long if there was nothing that he could do.

"Has M sent you after him yet?" Q wondered.

James shook his head.

"We don't know where he has gone or what he intends to do. Until that is revealed then M doesn't want me to do anything just yet."

"But he wants you?" Alison began her worry.

James released her from his hold and she turned to face him. Her stubborn chin and defiant glare was set firmly on him. He took a moment to reach out and push her hair over her shoulder, hoping that would calm her down. She shook her head before looking over James's shoulder and to the wall behind him.

"You are 007, aren't you?" she checked. "Surely there are better agents who can go after Silva? Why does it have to be you again?"

"I have previous knowledge of the case-"

"- The case which almost cost you your life," Alison complained to her father. "Have you ever thought about what could happen to you?"

"And what about all of those people, Ali?" James wondered. "People are being hurt because of him. I have to do something to stop it."

"Why does it have to be you?" Alison complained and she slumped into an empty chair at someone's work station.

Q remained silent as the two of them continued their discussion on the matter. He knew that they were both as stubborn as each other. He could only stand and work whilst counting down the minutes until they began to yell at each other.

"I know that you're worried," James said and he pulled up a chair to sit opposite her, folding one leg over the other. "I'm worried too. All I want is to catch Silva and get over this."

"But there will be others," Alison whispered to her father, looking down to her lap and folding her hands over each other. "There will be other people...shooting at you...trying to kill you...if not him then there will be others, dad. That's the part which worries me the most."

James took a deep breath and a gulp. He tried to remember a time when MI6 hadn't been his life. He tried to recall how it felt before Silva came along, when he was playing dead and living his life how he wanted to. He had felt safe, yes, but he hadn't felt any excitement. It confused him to no end. He needed the adrenaline. This was what he was good at. It was what he wanted to do.

"It is my job, Alison," James whispered.

"I get that," she muttered to him. "I also know that you are the only close family I have left. I know that if anything happened to you then I'd be devastated."

"I should hope so."

"It's not a joke," Alison hissed to her father, her gaze narrowing in his direction.

James held his hands up in defence. "I know it isn't. You have to understand that I have been doing this job for many years, Alison. I cannot give it up now."

"You risk your life," Alison said, her tone gentle yet stern. "How can you consider even doing that as a job, dad? I haven't said anything...but...I worry for you."

"You have no need to worry about me," James promised her. "I can handle myself, Ali."

"Can you?" Alison whispered. "I know that I can't make you do anything, dad...but if this is Silva...surely he will hurt you...does he want you to come after him?"

"I don't know, Alison," James shook his head and stood up, knowing that he had to go to speak with M soon enough. "I'll soon find out."

He bent down to kiss her on the top of her head and then looked to Q. The quartermaster had turned around to look back at the pair of them and had caught Bond staring right back at him.

"Look after her," Bond demanded.

"Where are you going?" Alison wondered from her father.

"I need to speak to M," he replied to her. "You need to stay here with Q and make sure he doesn't get into trouble."

"I doubt that will happen," Q mumbled to Bond and he turned back to look at his computer screen.

"I'll be back soon," James said and he turned on his heel and left, fiddling with the button to his suit.

Alison groaned and stood up, moving over to stand next to Q, her shoulder bumping against his. Q stopped working for a moment and looked down to her with an arched brow.

"Are you trying to distract me?" he whispered to her and she shook her head, a small smile on her face as Q nudged her back.

"No."

"Well you are," he promised her and began to type quickly again before he froze and brought up the CCTV from outside. He gulped loudly and watched on as security was dropped.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. "Someone's breached security. Someone's stopped the CCTV feed...I need to get to M..."

"Someone?" Alison said; panic rising in her voice as her hand wrapped around Q's arm. "Him?"

"I don't know," Q shook his head. "But I need to tell M. Security has been overridden and we need to leave sooner rather than later."

Alison allowed her hand to slip down Q's arm until her fingers found his and she wrapped hers around his. Q looked down to her and did his best to soothe her by squeezing her hand. She kept silent for a while longer and followed Q through the corridors, doing her best not to think of the worst.

...

A/N: I am so sorry for not updating sooner! University has been so hectic recently so I hope you will stick with it as I don't intend to abandon it!


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